Breaking Tradition
by SkieLoon
Summary: When a young newbie hunter stumbles across a group of 'vegan' tough guy vampires, she considers herself lucky they aren't the type to munch n' run. But these guys think vampires are all that's out there. Finding out the truth lands her some new partners.
1. Silver is a girl's best friend

**Rating/Warnings:** Rated **M** for strong language (because some characters just have terrible manners), violence and gore, and possible 'adult situations' in future chapters.

**Full Summary:** Young, inexperienced newbie Jenna Chaunce isn't the type of person that should be out hunting monsters and other things that go bump in the night. Sensitive and borderline naive, she should be the cheerful girl at the local high school volunteering to walk the Girl Scouts around town selling cookies. But, due to a near-death experience that involved a werewolf and two brothers by the last name of Winchester, she wanted to step into their shoes and follow after their 'example, rescuing people who are in trouble from the 'supernatural', just like she was, now that she's all too aware of what else is out there, creeping around in the shadows of the world. So, when Jenna stumbles across a pack of isolated, 'vegetarian', tough guy vampires who like to think of themselves as good guys, she's more than a little shocked to find out that this group of 'bloodsuckers' doesn't have a clue that there are a lot more than just vampires out there. Dustin, Cole, Luca and Deacon are not your ordinary vamps- -hell, they aren't your ordinary anything- -but following after the girl after finding out the strange, terrifying truth about what else goes bump in the night wasn't something the young hunter thought would ever happen. But hey. Landing yourself a pack of studly vampires as your new partners can't be a bad thing...can it?

**Disclaimer:** The Winchester bros and everything created and dreamed up by the genius known as Eric Kripke is copyright to their respectable whoevers. Personally, I wouldn't want to live in this world, Winchester brothers or not (Okay, maybe I would as long as I get to be bffs with Castiel), but I adore it to pieces anyway. And yes. Canons will be making appearances later. This is not an OC only fic, though it is very OC heavy.

**AN:** The only reason I'm writing this is because the idea of it has been bouncing around in my head for a few months, actually. And when an idea sticks around for more than a week, it starts developing and is usually there to stay until I do something about it. Fellow authors, you know what I'm talking about? Of course you do lol. Damn...sticky ideas. But I like this one, so it's okay. This is one of those stories that just won't leave you alone until you write it. Y'know? That being said, I'd like to view this story as an exercise for myself as well, so please, feel free to give me some constructive criticism for it. I'm a happy learner, and I'll take any and all advice. And also, I apologize ahead of time for any spelling mistakes I might have missed. I edit everything I write, but I still miss things. Meh. I should get myself a beta reader, but...double meh.

Chapter 1

_Silver is a girl's best friend_

_..._

_.._

_._

The night was cold. Fog drifted through the streets, thick as pea soup as some would say. It hadn't started raining yet, but the air was thick and damp with the threat and feel of a storm. If you listened closely, you could hear deep, powerful thunder rolling off in the distance. The sounds of the town drowned out only some of the far-away crash of clouds getting friendly with each other.

But in her ears, all she could hear was the thud of her worn out shoes on the pavement, and the beating of her own heart. The thrum of blood rushing through her head as fear pumped adrenaline through her system and spurred her on, breathing hard, eyes narrowed at the fog.

The cool air made goosebumps appear on the skin of her arms beneath the two sweatshirts that covered her body, and on her knees as the holes in her dirty jeans let in more of the chilly atmosphere. Her hands were balled into fists so tight that her knuckles were white as she ran.

The edge of the town was in her sights. The change in scenery was sudden. From the brand new housing still up for sale to a two-lane paved road that stretched out by itself and disappeared into a curve in the forest that surrounded the town. It was empty, like the stretch of pavement behind her that curved back into civilization. Nobody was around.

Well…besides herself and the…

Concentrating on her breathing, and wondering where on earth her damn luck went, the girl looked over her shoulder, half expecting to see her pursuer right on her heels. But the shadowy shape was a good distance behind her, though the space between them didn't make her feel all that much safer. The thing was quicker than her, and gaining.

It was low to the ground, running on all fours, and she swore she saw the glint of long, pointed teeth in the misty air before whipping her head back around, rusty brown ponytail flipping out behind her, and focusing on the road again.

Sweet baby Jesus, she hoped that if it did catch her it finished her off quick.

She tried not to think about what small chance that was. Considering the grisly, bloody deaths that thing had on its resume before she tried hunting it down, she was in for a world of hurt if that thing got its claws in her.

The thin heels of her shoes scraped the cracked, old pavement, almost stumbling for a moment, and she thanked every little lucky star above that thick layer of fog and storm clouds that she didn't just pull the biggest horror movie cliché in the world and trip during the chase scene.

Running away from the town wasn't looking like such a good idea. Not that she'd had much of a choice—when you were trying to get away from something, especially if it's a game of tag that may very well end your life should you lose, it really wasn't up to you which direction you ended up going. And she hated the fact that she'd turned left instead of right earlier, because now she was just digging herself a cute, scenic forest road grave.

If it dragged her into the woods, she doubted her body would ever be found. She didn't even know if anyone would bother looking for her.

The only thing tying her to the town behind her was a hotel key in her back pocket and a couple things she'd left in her room.

A snapping, sharp bark from the beast sent cold chills up her spine, and the adrenaline rush made her whole body feel as if it were filled with some sort of insanely sugar-concentrated energy drink. Maybe, coincidentally enough, that Monster stuff. Though she wasn't sure if there was even sugar in that drink, or if it was purely chemical—

She felt a rush of cool air hit her neck, and realized it had caught up, and had tried to swipe at her back with its claws.

"Nnaaah," was the sound she made, somehow forcing her legs to move quicker and work harder to gain a few more valuable inches between herself and her pursuer while the beast caught its balance after the failed attack. But as she ran, something caught her attention in the corner of her eye—an old dirt driveway, long unused and overgrown with weeds, leading into the forest, and she tilted her head to get a better look at it.

The same instant she glanced back, she saw the beast spring at her from the ground, catching the movement just in time and yelping, ducking out of the way, feeling those claws and its big body just barely miss her, and darted off to the side, not hesitating to look back as she ran for that trail.

Much better than a long stretch of empty road to nowhere, the trail could very well lead to something. A garage or shed—something she could find a bit of cover in at least.

The beast didn't take very long to catch itself and come after her. The image of a train with teeth came to her mind for a moment, but she shook her head and tried to focus on finding out if this idea was going to pay off or not—

There!

A small, run down cabin loomed up after she scrambled over the top of a small hill. The wood of the building was old, and the windows were boarded up. For a moment, the thought that the door might be bolted sent a jolt of liquid panic through her chest, but she pushed it aside and kept moving. Because this was really her last chance.

She jumped over the two steps leading up to the thin porch, and threw her shoulder into the door, her speed and momentum making something crack and letting her inside. Slipping on the wood, she had to spin and throw the door closed, just in time to see the beast jumping at her again. But when she threw herself against the door again, this time to keep it closed instead of breaking it open, the sturdy, heavy wooden thing held when the monster crunched into it.

"Thinkthinkthink," she chanted, closing her eyes tightly, biting back a yelp when the monster reared back and crashed into the door again. The impact made her whole body bounce against it, and her footing failed as she slipped and landed on her butt, kicking her legs to keep her back to the door, hands and nails digging into the wood beside her to help. "Thinkthinkthink!"

It was a shapeshifter, she was fairly sure. But it was strange—the silver eyed beast could shift between both animal forms and human, though its trademark, favorite form was the one trying to break through the door and eat her. Some sort of hybrid mix between a bear and a wolf.

Silver should work on it. Something silver. She didn't know what she'd do with a bit of silver if she got it, unless it was knife-shaped and pointy, but that was what she'd need. And of course, the only gun she had, along with her last silver bullet, was back in her hotel room.

"Shoot," she hissed. All she was doing now, then, was stretching out what nasty little remnants she had of her life.

A sound from somewhere else in the room made her look up. And her heart nearly stopped at the realization that she wasn't alone in the cabin.

Three large shadows stared at her from different places from the cabin's front entry room. She could see into a dark room out in front of her, where one of them was standing beside what looked like a couch. Another was almost directly to her right, standing in a doorway into another room. The third made her jump when he appeared, leaning against the door over her to help keep it closed, appearing from somewhere to her left.

"Did you piss off a bear or what, kid?" the man above her hissed, pushing against the door harder when the shapeshifter slammed against it again. "Damn thing's gonna break down the fucking door at this rate…"

Her breath caught in her throat for a minute. "D…do any of you have…" she began slowly, terror icing over every bone in her body. Oh God, there were actually people in this place. She'd lead the thing right to them. She was going to end up being the stupid idiot who ended up causing all of their deaths. "Silver," she said in a gasp.

The man above her glanced down. "What?"

"Silver!" she shouted over the roar of the shapeshifter outside. "Anything! Something silver!"

She had an idea. Albeit an incredibly…stupid one, but…

"The fuck you need silver for—"

"Don't ask me stupid questions!" she barked, wincing as she heard a crack behind her, those claws tearing chunks of the door away, thinning it. Soon enough, it could probably reach right through and grab one of them. "Anything! A watch or a ring!"

BANG went the door.

"NOW!"

The man to her right, still standing in the doorway, seemed to hesitate for a second before he shook his head and reached down for her, plucking her off the ground by her shoulders easily, holding her tight when she shrieked and tried to push away, trying to get back to the door. "Calm down, you're alright," was all he said before his eyes cut up to the man who'd been helping her. "Deacon, keep the door closed, the bear will get bored eventually—"

"Please!" God, she was desperate. They didn't understand that the damn monster would keep tearing at the door until it got inside. It wouldn't get bored. "Please, just…silver! Just a little piece of silver is what…" her voice trailed off and she shuddered. She felt sick, knowing what would happen if her stupid plan didn't work.

Deacon—the man at the door—growled under his breath when the shapeshifter crashed against it again. "What in the hell do you need silver for? Just…go sit in a corner 'til the thing leaves, Jesus."

She looked from Deacon to the man still holding onto her shoulders. Dark as it was, she couldn't see much of him, but she could see a few strands of his hair hanging in front of his eyes, which were catching what little light there was in the room and reflecting it back out like a mirror. "Please," she begged.

He hesitated again, and she almost hated him when he pressed her into the room where the other shadow was still standing. "Luca, keep an eye on her."

"Probably she's just scared out of her damn mind," called Deacon.

"I'm not—let go!" she yelled.

There was a gurgled, pained noise from outside the door, and the crashing stopped abruptly. Silence was all the four of them heard for a long time.

Deacon let out a curse, still holding the door closed however, but his tone suggested he was smiling. "Guess it got bored, eh? Bout damn time. We're going to have to replace the fucking door—"

"_Jenna_," a voice whispered. It was a soothing, calm sort of tone. Silvery and enticing. And it floated through the bottom of the door from the outside. "_Jenna, come outside. Come outside, I've missed you._"

Deacon looked back at her, eyes flashing in the dark. "…The hell is that?"

"Keep the door closed," was all she said, eyes widening. "Keep it closed."

"_Running so hard,_" the shapeshifter purred. "_You must be exhausted._"

"Seriously, the fuck is that?" Deacon demanded. "Hey, you alright out there? The bear's gone right?"

"Stop talking to him!" she hissed. She tried to push at the man still holding her, but his grip seemed to tighten over her shoulders even more. "Don't open the door!"

"The hell not? If Yogi's still out there, it's not like I should just—"

"_Get away from the door, you damned useless fodder,_" the shifter growled, and Jenna watched Deacon's body stiffen and stop the action of his arms moving from the door to open it. "_She's my catch. Mine._"

"…Kid, who is this guy?" Deacon was pushing against the door again.

"I just want some silver," she said absently, staring at the door. "He's…a…a-allergic," she whispered.

"_Allergic to silver, allergic to silver,_" the shapeshifter repeated, tone mocking. "_Girl I will tear out your damn innards with my teeth if I hear you say silver again,_" he snarled, voice losing that velvety, calming tone.

"_Vampire_," hissed the shifter, and Jenna almost winced as the grip on her shoulders tightened almost to the point of pain, and she felt the already tense air go electric. "_Weak. You're weak, all three of you. Weaklings. You've got vermin blood in you, I can smell it. JENNA!_" he snapped suddenly. "_Jenna come outside or I'll kill you slow! I'll kill you slow and cut their heads off and—_" The shapeshifter's voice melted into a stream of animalistic growls and grunts and roars, and she knew he was changing forms again.

"Please," she breathed, and the man holding her looked at her again. "Silver."

He hesitated, eyes nearly glowing in the dark, before releasing her and reaching down for his wrist, unclipping something that glinted in the dim light before handing it over to her slowly.

She looked down at it when she had it in her hands. It was a simple chain—thick and strong. "Real silver?"

The man who'd given her the bracelet grunted. "…Yeah," he told her. "Real silver. What are you going to—"

She didn't take the time to tell him what she wanted to do, mostly because she didn't really think any of them would let her. Jenna Chaunce only lunged away from him and back into the front entry room, ignoring the question Deacon shot at her as she jumped closer, and kicked out. Her foot connected with the back of the man's knee, making him shout out a curse and fall back for a moment, away from the door.

Be brave, her mind told her. Be brave, be brave, be brave. She took a deep breath,.

…_Like the Winchester brothers._

Be brave. Be brave_. Be brave_.

The words were a chant in her head, blocking out everything. They made her forget about things like fear, and forget about the shifter calling the three men out as vampires. They silenced the ripping growl just on the other side of the door, the beating of her own heart, and the alarmed uproar that burst from the men in the room as she wrenched that door open and threw herself at the beast.

Surprise was the only thing she had to her advantage as she struck it in the chest, sending the monster stumbling back with her. That, and the thick chain of silver she hand clenched in her fingers.

As the beast snarled, its back paws slipped on the damp wood of the porch, sending the two falling back into the muddy grass in front of the cabin. When a hateful growl elicited from its throat, catching its balance as it opened its jaws wide, fear wasn't present in her system as she whipped her arm out, and reached into the monster's open maw, that fist clenched tight around the silver bracelet shoving down, down, down into the creature's throat.

A howl pierced her ears as the silver came into contact with such sensitive tissue, and its jaws snapped down. Pain pierced through the chant in her head as those teeth dug through her two sweatshirts and into her arm, but she closed her eyes, hissing as she unclenched her fingers and released the chain, tugging her arm back when the beast opened its mouth and tried to snap to get a better hold on her. In its panic and pain though, it released her completely, muscles heaving in its chest and stomach to cough the burning, agonizing silver thing back up.

But she clawed after it, wrapping her arms around its head, trying to force its jaws to stay closed as it heaved and choked, smoke and bubbling black blood oozing from in between its teeth.

The noises it made were terrible.

She held tight to it, at one point almost clinging to its muzzle with her whole body, every muscle in her straining to keep those teeth closed as it thrashed. Though as the terrified, pained sounds went on and on, she found that the words to her chant began to change.

Be brave, be brave , be brave, began to morph into something more like I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Pity flared through her. Evil and wicked and bloodthirsty as the shapeshifter was or not, trying to take a life always felt terrible to her. Even as this one reached up and raked its claws against her already damaged arm in a last ditch attempt to throw her off, she didn't feel angry. Or even scared.

She just wanted the damn things' pain to end.

The lurching and writhing slowed, the monster struggling until its energy drained from its body as fast as its lifeblood. With a heavy breath through its nose it collapsed to the earth in a heap, choking in a ragged breath once…twice…three times until she felt it exhale everything it had, and take in no more.

She didn't dare let go, though. Didn't dare loosen her grip until what felt like full minutes had gone by, and she began to feel the strain herself. Muscles weak, head dizzy and light, she relaxed her locked hold on the beast's head, scooting back through the bloody mud a bit until it lay there, only a few feet in front of her, eyes glassy, jaws still hissing with smoke as the blood pooling around its head still bubbled. It looked very much dead.

"…" The girl let out a shaky breath, realizing only then that she was trembling like a leaf hanging onto its branch for dear life. Her arm was shaking when she tried lifting it to assess the damage. It was dark, and difficult to see, but her shoulders almost sagged at how terrible it looked. The thing had not only bitten her, but with all that tugging she pulled, the teeth had ripped her as well. The claws of course had only made it worse. There were chunks of her missing. She could see bone glinting up at her at the bottom of one puncture wound.

But she only looked up slowly, remembering in the back of her mind somewhere that she had a first aid kit back in the hotel room she'd been staying at. All of her things were back in the same room. And…there was a hospital back in the town too…she could find it.

"C…can find it," she mumbled to herself. Her legs felt like they were going to give out beneath her as she pushed herself up to her feet with her good arm. Her vision blurred after her first step. Doubled after her third.

She fell to her knees on the fourth. "I…what…" It was hard to think straight. Hard to make sense of anything. She felt so light headed, and actually swayed where she was. Looking down at herself, soaked in blood, she let out a small, weak laugh. She couldn't believe it, really. And maybe it was denial that made all that blood look so damn funny to her. She didn't want to die.

"Dang," she whispered. It was the juiciest curse for the situation she could come up with.

Looking back up at the forest stretched out in front of her, she knew that just over that hill right there, she'd find the road back to the town. The town with the hospital. All she had to do was stand up and—

…But her thoughts ended there. Trying to stand again, her body and mind had given up on staying conscious, and she slumped forward towards the earth, all covered in dead leaves, twigs and specks of blood. She had nearly forgotten about the three men back in the cabin she was so desperate to save in the first place after bringing the shapeshifter right to them.

The three broad shouldered, bulky men were on the tiny porch at that point, two of them having made it as far as the bottom step down to the earth below, all of them stuck between a place where they wanted to help and where they wanted to just stare. Stunned silent, they hadn't budged much further than that. Witnessing a girl pull something like that over a thing like _that_… Honestly, knowing even where to begin would have been impressive.

"...Just…going to stand around?" Deacon growled, the first to break the quiet shock of what had just happened. He brushed passed the two on the bottom steps, growling under his breath as he stepped around the dead beast's carcass and drew closer to the girl. "…Luca, come and look at this," he muttered, catching the attention of the man on the very bottom step. "Her arm's…pretty fucked up." His voice was strained and he lifted a hand to cover his mouth, turning his head to look away from her.

"Don't—don't touch her. All that blood…" Luca, the smallest of the three, made his way closer, kneeling down beside her as well. Deacon moved back, rustling up the leaves on the ground as he did. He took a deep breath in through his mouth and shuddered as he exhaled.

It was dark, and the fog blocked any source of light the moon could have given them…

But they could all see perfectly. Everything was as bright at night to them as it would be to anyone else during the day. Maybe even brighter.

"I've got my damn control under…control," Deacon snarled, voice a deep rumble in his chest.

Luca hissed in a breath, reaching up and running a hand through his dark, curly hair, narrowing his eyes at the girl's wounds before he shook his head and began to slip his arms under her limp, deadweight body.

"What the hell are we supposed to do with her?" Deacon kept his eyes trained away from her still, brows furrowed. "And what the hell was…what the hell was that?" he growled, and his eyes darted back to the dead beast behind him. "Did you see that? You saw all that, right? Heard it? The fuck are we supposed to—"

"Ignore it, for now," Luca said back, holding the young hunter close to his chest, dwarfing her. "It's dead. And Dustin is coming home tomorrow. So right now…we just need to make sure she makes it through the night."

"I don't think we should keep her here…" Deacon began, but stopped when Luca looked at him.

"What do you think we should do with her. Hm? I need to stop all this bleeding. Right now. I know you've seen all this damn blood," he said, moving back towards the cabin. "…Unless you don't actually want the kid to live to see tomorrow."

"No, I say we kill her and drink her down like she's made of fucking Fanta," Deacon hissed, narrowing his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "And she doesn't need our damn help, she needs a fucking hospital. All you'll do is stitch her up with dental floss and leave her with a whole lotta—"

"I," began Luca icily, making his way up the front steps of the cabin, passing the third, quiet man with a nod. "Was a doctor in a past life, Deacon. So you shut your mouth, or God help me I will sew it shut for you." He shot a scathing look over his shoulder. "With fucking dental floss." With that, he disappeared into the cabin through the clawed, ruined door, leaving Deacon glaring up at him from the bloody grass.

The third man looked his way, eyes flashing in the dark.

"…I think we should burn it," he said, voice soft.

"Burn what? The bear? Or did you mean the kid?"

The man was silent.

"Fuck, Cole, ease off. Calm down. I know what you meant," Deacon muttered, reaching up and rubbing at the back of his head, fingertips touching into his short black hair. "Don't know why we'd need to burn the thing—"

"Honestly, what do you think this creature is? What is the first thing that comes to mind after everything that's just happened?"

"…Could be a husky."

"…"

"A really big husky."

"My bracelet burned it from the inside out. To death. My silver bracelet." Cole's eyes narrowed. "…Silver," he added again. "She made a big deal about that little detail."

Deacon blinked, staring at him for a moment before he shook his head and let a small laugh escape his throat. "Nah. You aren't suggesting what I think you're suggesting. You really aren't."

"Why not?" Cole crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head forward so that a few wispy strands of hair fell in front of his eyes. "We're here, aren't we?" He tilted his head a bit to the side. "We've got this little notch of the mythology books proved. And it spoke, Deacon. The thing threatened us—it knew what we were. It…changed."

"Yeah but...c'mon. Werewolves? That's stupid. I bet we were…pranked or something. That has to be it. Look, the thing doesn't even look like a werewolf. They're supposed to stand upright and stalk around and still be wearing their ripped up jeans. It isn't even a full moon. It looks like somebody just gave their stupid dog some steroids, is what it looks like."

"And vampires aren't supposed to have a second set of teeth above the first," Cole growled. "Vampires are supposed to turn to dust in the sun, and stakes through the heart are supposed to kill us."

"…Well that all just sounds stupid," Deacon muttered. He glanced up at Cole when the man shook his head and turned away from him. "Look," he started, sighing when Cole stopped and looked at him again. "…Look, I have no idea." Deacon grit his teeth, eyes dropping back down at the dead beast. "…I have no idea. I just don't."

"…Doesn't matter," Cole said quietly. "If she makes it through the night, we'll ask her when she wakes up."

"I wanna say that she just had a mental breakdown and decided to choke the mutt to death by shoving your bracelet down its throat, but…you're right. It sizzled it from the inside out. Smoking and everything. …I don't think even the worst allergy in the fuckin' world can do that to you. …Not to mention the…the talking…bit. I don't know what the fuck that means."

"…I don't think any of us do," Cole mumbled. "…Except for that girl." And with that, he turned away again, disappearing into the cabin as well, and Deacon was left alone on the bloody front lawn.


	2. The truth is odd at the best of times

**AN:** Quick update yay. I really wanted to write this chapter, lol. And by the way, I thought I should mention, that this story takes place roughly around the middle of Season 4. So all that apocalypse stuff is just starting to poke its head out of that scary-awesome plot. To be honest, I haven't actually started season five yet, and I technically just finished season four like...two days ago. I'm the fangirl who likes to buy the show season by season so I can give the box a little fangirl hug before starting it up. Pft. But I might just kick that habit to the curb and start catching up online, because the ending of season four was absolutely terrible (not in a bad way, but in the 'oh god what a cruel cliffhanger' way). Also, because of that, I apologize for any incorrect facts or habits about mythical beasties in the future (though I am going to be taking some creative liberties and changing/spicing a few creatures up a bit).  
>And thank you for the feedback :3 It makes me happy that there are people who like this story x3<br>Anyway, onward!

Chapter 2

_The truth is odd at the best of times_

...

..

.

Dipping in and out of consciousness, her mind felt as if it were soaked to the core in something heavy and sticky. Molasses, maybe. And each time she came to the surface, she barely had any time to get her bearings before a searing, deep pain in her left arm shoved her back into blissful black peace. Sometimes she was awake long enough to hear a voice or realize she was hungry.

But whenever she caught the sound of someone speaking, she could never focus on the words enough to understand them. They blurred into the rest of the haze that surrounded her, and so she simply ignored them after the first few tries to comprehend.

It exhausted her, really. Her energy already shot, she could only give up trying to wake up, and let herself just fall back into that solid state of oblivion.

.

Two men were sitting, backs to the wall just beside the old fireplace, staring through the dim room towards the girl taking up the couch, her mutilated arm at her side. In front of her, sitting on the coffee table, a third man was looking over the stitches he had sewn into that same arm, closing tearing bite marks and claw wounds. He'd had to cut the sleeves of both of her sweatshirts off, leaving her injured arm bare. The bleeding had actually stopped, though she had lost enough where he feared that every time she touched the surface of consciousness and fell back down, that she would never come back up.

Luca heaved out a heavy breath, drawing his hand away from her arm gingerly. His shoulders shook with irritation, but not over the trouble of saving her life. He was a vampire. And that side of him begged to be set free after being exposed to so much blood. But if anything, he and his friends prided themselves in their self control. Uncomfortable as he was… He felt she was in no danger from him.

The doctor reached up and tugged at the collar of his gray shirt, grunting because he knew he would need to end up throwing it away, covered in blood as much as it was. Strong jawed and clean shaven, he wasn't the sort who looked like he liked being any sort of messy. "I need a damn shower," he muttered softly, but he kept his eyes on her arm, ever vigilant to make sure nothing reopened and started bleeding again.

"Yeah you do," one of the men against the wall called. Deacon, more susceptible to that inner monster than his friends, shuddered at the smell still thick in the air. He reached up a hand and scratched at the sideburns framing his face. "Hell, you should call Dustin and tell him to pick one of those sissy ass air fresheners up on his way back."

Luca only grunted from his spot on the coffee table, running a hand through his brown curly hair to keep any stray thoughts of her blood from his mind.

But Deacon shook his head, standing himself up, ignoring the hungry growl in his gut as he did so, shrugging his shoulders and zipping up his black jacket as if he were cold. The sun was actually up outside, the blocked windows and door keeping the house dark, but warm nonetheless. "I still think she needs a damn hospital," he said.

"Dustin said he'd like to talk to her," Cole said from his spot on the floor, voice just as calm and collected as it ever was. His black hair still hung in front of his face in wisps, but he did nothing about it. His chin and lower jaw were dotted with stubble. "When she wakes up," he added.

"Can't Dustin just…I dunno. Maybe go talk to her in the damn hospital?" Deacon hissed, and when Cole and Luca both shot him the same look, he groaned and turned away from them, reaching up both hands and rubbing them over the choppy dark hair on his head, closing his eyes. "Can't believe he wasn't pissed about any of this anyway," he muttered.

Cole looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well…think about it. We're…I mean, all of us, we're supposed to be sort of like. I don't wanna say fuckin' good guys, because that's fucking cheesy as shit, but…we just watched her out there. She shoved her fucking arm down that things neck and what'd we do? We watched."

"I can't really blame any of us for it," Luca said a bit absently, attention having refocused on the kid in front of him again. "Besides, what could we have done? Honestly, if silver was the only thing—"

"Nope. Nope, I told you both that we're not going to assume the thing was a fucking werewolf just because Cole's bracelet made it fry. We aren't going there."

"Explain the talking then," Cole grumbled, but Deacon threw his hands in the air.

"We'll ask her about it! Okay? Jesus! I just don't want to talk about werewolves and fairies and whatever the fuck you both are thinking up until she confirms it or tells you you're both insane for coming up with stupid shit."

"Please," Cole said when Luca remained silent, choosing the option of ignoring the short tempered vampire. "Tell us what you think happened. Beginning to end, what was the story?"

"…" Deacon twisted around and glared at Cole, but his eyes narrowed as he actually tried to come up with an answer. "…She was being chased by a crazy ex boyfriend," he began, and immediately Cole looked away, uninterested. "She saw the old driveway and ran this way thinking she could lock herself up in some abandoned old house. But as she gets closer to the yard, a big ass bear thing sees her and uh…it gets pissed off and charges up the steps after her. She has a mental breakdown, lapsing the bear thing and her boyfriend together, and thinks up werewolf like you idiots are, and starts asking for silver. Then—"

"Enough. Please." Luca didn't look at him. "I'd really rather just wait for the real answer than listen to the 'stupid shit' that you come up with," he sighed.

Deacon bristled, opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it—or just gave up—and turned, marching out of the living room area and into the empty, dusty, never used kitchen to pace and brood and complain to himself.

Cole stood then himself, crossing the room slowly and standing beside the coffee table, looking down at Luca. "I kind of want him to be right, though," he said quietly. Luca only grunted. "It would make things much less…complicated. The potential for all that extra chaos would just vanish."

"Well, expect it. Just in case. If you think about it, it isn't that farfetched. Not really." Luca stood and cleared his throat. "You keep an eye on her. If she starts bleeding, come and get me—and don't let Deacon too close if she does."

"Fuck you," came Deacon's voice from the kitchen.

"It's not that I don't trust him," Luca said, his voice raised purposefully, brows furrowing before looking back at Luca. "But his control is the weakest out of all of ours."

"Double fuck you."

The two other men sighed and Luca left Cole by the coffee table, muttering something about his shower before vanishing into another small room and closing the door behind him.

Cole sat down on the table in Luca's place for a while, staring off to the side, absolutely quiet as he listened to the sound of the running water coming from the bathroom. While they didn't pay for heat or electricity, water was always important for one thing or another.

The old, inaccurate clock above the fireplace ticked.

"…Bl…Bull…let," the girl said softly, perhaps five minutes into Luca's shower. She was far from consciousness, and Cole knew it, but he felt himself stiffen at her voice, and he glanced at Deacon when the man left the kitchen in a rush, peering at her over Cole's shoulder. "Silv…" she hissed, brows furrowing in her sleep, and grit her teeth for a moment.

"…How old is she anyway?" Deacon heard himself mumble.

"She can't have broken twenty," Cole answered. The thought made the both of them frown. Neither of them liked the image of a kid going through what she did.

"Only way to kill it," she growled, and for an instant her eyes were open, wide but unseeing, staring at the ceiling.

"L…Luca," Cole called, tilting his head but keeping his eyes on her, blinking when her own eyes snapped shut again.

"She bleeding?" his voice called, and the sound of the running water stopped. He was out of the bathroom a moment later, damp, clean, and in a fresh white shirt. "What is it? She's not—"

"Heart," she mumbled. "…heart."

"She just started talking," Deacon said quietly. "Her eyes were open for a second, but…"

"No," the girl growled after a moment. "…No I don't…I don't want to supersize…"

Deacon frowned. "The fuck," was all he said.

The three stood in silence for a few more minutes, waiting for her to say anything else, but she had stilled and said nothing more.

"…Dustin will be back tonight. He thinks he'll be back by eleven, but with the way he drives, I wouldn't be surprised if he got here by nine," Luca muttered. "Cole, you keep an eye on her. Deacon, you're going to help me get her blood off the floor. And later tonight, after the sun goes down, you're running into town to buy some painkillers for her when she wakes up."

Deacon heaved a breath and rolled his eyes. "Oh, goody."

.

Dustin's arrival came at eight thirty. A well used, well loved black Ford truck, with the windows tinted to the point of looking painted, pulled up the driveway, flattening weeds and cresting over the hill before parking on an open spot beside the house. The man who stepped out was tall, just as tall as the three waiting for him in the cabin. Red, tousled looking hair hung down in thick waves to the nape of his neck and jaw, a thin beard stretching from his chin to below his ears.

He didn't make a sound as he crossed the overgrown 'yard' and up the front steps, taking in the mingled scent of two different samples of spilled blood. When he pushed the door open, his eyes only narrowed at the missing chunks and deep grooves from thick, brutal claws.

Luca met him in the front entry room.

"She's awake, Dustin," the doctor said quietly. "But…she's…not talking. The painkillers are barely working for her, and she's still exhausted."

"Why don't you let her get back to sleep?" Dustin said lowly, eyes cutting to his friend. He took a moment to look around, eyes narrowing on the shapes of the others in the other room. "She might feel more open to actually talking if she were rested enough."

"Think about it," Luca growled. "She's a kid. A girl. She isn't going to let herself doze off now that she's aware of the three grown men who've been keeping an eye on her."

Dustin let out a breath and shook his head. "Fine, fine. I'll go easier, then."

Luca opened his mouth to say something further, but Deacon barked out an alarmed curse and the two quiet vampire's attention was averted.

"Luca! Luca, come here," Deacon called.

The doctor turned on his heel and stepped back into the living room, Dustin following after him.

Jenna was sitting upright on the couch, her injured arm, which had at that point been wrapped almost completely in clean white bandages, at her side while she was bent and pressing her forehead into her good hand, her fingers clenching into her hair. Deacon and Cole were crouched opposite from her, the coffee table between them.

"What did you do?" Luca hissed, and Deacon shot him a look.

"I didn't do shit! She just ducked and said her head was hurting bad—"

"Please stop yelling," whispered the girl, and Deacon's mouth snapped shut.

"Of course she has a headache, you idiot," Luca growled. "Mixing up losing all that blood and listening to you? Anyone would get a damn headache. Get her some water. Right now," he snapped, waving a hand at him dismissively, grunting when Deacon got to his feet and disappeared into the kitchen.

Luca stepped around the couch and held his hand out for her. Since she had woken up, he'd done this several times, and she understood what he wanted then. Gingerly, she lifted her injured arm, and placed her hand in his, gritting her teeth while he made sure the bandages were still white and clean. "It looks alright," he said quietly, and released her hand.

"Can I have more of that…was it Tylenol? That you gave me? I need some more of it," she muttered.

"I'll let you take one more with the water," Luca said back, and glanced up when Dustin moved to step around to the front of the couch as well.

Dustin's eyes narrowed a little when he saw her shoulders tense before she looked up at him. "How are you doing?" he asked her after a moment.

Deacon came back then with the glass of water, and placed it on the coffee table before stepping back a bit, away from Dustin.

"I've…been better," she said honestly, blinking at the redhead. Her eyes dropped to the water and she snatched the single pill Luca had placed on the table for her greedily, swallowing it down along with half of the glass in one gulp.

"Easy," Luca scolded, and sighed when she didn't listen.

"…" Dustin was quiet before he moved again, pushing the coffee table away from the couch a bit, making Cole get out of the way. He sat on the edge of the sturdy wooden table and rested his elbows on his knees, facing her.

When the glass was empty and Luca reached for it to take it away, her fingers clenched into the cup and held tighter to it, looking down at her lap. Tense, uncomfortable, and nervous. All four of the vampires could sense the negative feelings in her easily.

So Dustin's tone was gentle when he spoke. "Are you going to tell us what happened last night?"

"I'd…" Jenna swallowed, glancing off to the side. She crossed her legs at her ankles. "I'd rather…not."

"Why?"

"Because you might think I'm crazy," she breathed.

Dustin let himself smirk, eyes flashing. "Try us."

"…Is it true, though," she mumbled so softly even they had a hard time catching it. "About what he said?" The four were quiet and she closed her eyes. "Are you all vampires? Or d…do you maybe…just…" she looked up and her eyes fell on one of the boarded up windows. "Have a bad sun allergy?"

"I'll tell you the truth," Dustin began, voice slow as ever, "If you tell us the truth."

"…" Jenna nodded after a moment. "Well then, ah, what do you want to know first?"

"What was that thing? Was it a werewolf or not?" Deacon asked, and cleared his throat when Dustin turned his head just enough to look over his shoulder at him.

"What was the creature that attacked you?" Dustin repeated, looking back at her.

Jenna looked from him and up to Deacon, blinking. "It wasn't a werewolf," she said in a tone that suggested the idea would be very silly, and the black haired man shot a grin at Cole and Luca.

"I fucking _told_ you idiots—"

"It was a shapeshifter," she clarified, and Deacon's grin vanished.

"…Come again?" Dustin said.

"A shapeshifter," she repeated. "The most common sort are humans who can just…change their appearance to fit another human's perfectly. I heard they can even get memories and stuff from their model when they change forms. But this one…he was weird. He could…change from animal to human."

"That would explain the thing talking," Cole muttered. "How did it know your name? Are they psychic?"

"I don't think they are," Jenna said, and looked back down at the glass in her hands. "I'm…actually not a hundred percent sure of he was a shapeshifter, really. I've never heard about a real thing that could do that at will. But…the silver seemed to work well enough." Her eyes widened after an instant, and she looked up at Cole. "The…the silver! I don't—if it is a genuine shapeshifter, the only way to kill it for good is a silver bullet through its heart! I need—I have a gun back in my hotel room—it's still out there right? In the yard?"

Everybody looked at Dustin. Nobody had left the house since Deacon had come back from the store with the pain pills.

Dustin stared at her hard. "I didn't see it." He looked over his shoulder at the three others in the room. "There was nothing at all in the yard but some blood stains the rain hadn't washed out."

"…Oh," was all she said. Utterly quiet, she only stared at Dustin before her eyes closed and she ducked her head, actually thunking it against the glass in her hands, sagging.

"Hey, easy there," Luca mumbled, but she shook her head where she was.

"Great. Great this is perf—" her breath hitched "—perfect. Now I've just…I've pissed him off. I've never…and now I actually…" She let go of the glass, oblivious to the thud it made as it struck the floor and brought her hand to her forehead, groaning. "Shoot," she whispered.

"So what does that mean?" Dustin said.

"It means he got up and left," Jenna muttered. "They heal…very fast. It…Means he'll go out and eat more people, and it's my…" But she stopped there, holding her breath in for a few long moments before letting it all out, opening her eyes slowly and sitting up a bit straighter. "…I'd like to go back to my hotel now," she said quietly.

Deacon blinked, and cut off something Dustin began to say. "The fuck you are. You've got a fuckin' Frankenstein arm, plus you said that the…the thing is alive and kicking. And _how_ is it alive and kicking? You shoved that bracelet down its _throat_, kid! It was screaming and bleeding all over the fucking place and—"

"Shapeshifters die for good by a silver bullet in the heart. Nothing else." She moved to stand, and was relieved when none of them tried to stop her. "I want to go, now."

"…We won't keep you here," Dustin said, and the frustrated growl from Deacon was ignored. "We won't keep you here against your will," he added, but stood as well. "You've upheld your end of the deal, though. Do you want to hear this side of the truth?"

"No," she mumbled. "No, I don't, actually."

Jenna circled around the couch, not looking at any of them as she made her way to the door, hesitating before pushing it open, and she just stared out at the barren yard when she did. The shifter really was gone. And—

Something glinted in the moonlight and she moved down from the porch in hurried little steps, ignoring how dizzy she felt before she knelt down and stared at what had caught her attention.

It was the silver chain bracelet Cole had let her use. Streaked with dried blood. She picked it up gingerly, as if expecting the metal to be hot, and looked at it for a few seconds longer. She didn't say anything when she heard the heavy crunch of the vampires' footfalls as they stopped behind her.

"Here," she said slowly, standing, forcing herself not to shiver as she held the bracelet out to its original owner. "If you want it back," she added.

Cole didn't hesitate to take it, eyes dropping from her to the chain in his hand quietly.

"…Thanks for the stitches," she said, and Luca just grunted. "It's weird, though," she said after a moment. "Why…I mean, why did you have to wait to ask me what it was? If anything, I'd think…I mean if you _are_ vampires, I'd think you would be the ones telling me." The girl reached up and rubbed at her neck. "Thanks for not eating me, too."

"Hn." Dustin looked over her shoulder at the hill that separated her from the road back into town. "At least let us give you a lift back to your hotel. You'll—"

"Pass out before you get halfway there," Luca finished for him.

"And please, humor me, but…" Dustin's eyes narrowed again a bit. "…Tell me. What…else, exactly, is out there?"

Jenna's head snapped up. Her mouth opened a little before her eyes narrowed at him. "You aren't vampires," she told him, and he blinked. "Can't be vampires and ask something like that." She reached up and touched at the bandages on her arm lightly, wincing for a moment. "And…There are just shifters, if you really want to know—"

A chill ran up her spine and she froze as Deacon stepped forward, actually pushing Dustin out of his way, and his lower jaw dropped a bit. She took a small step back when a set of razor sharp, pointed teeth lowered down from above the top set, along with another row of teeth that lifted up from below the bottom set, filling his mouth with fangs. "Proof enough?" he asked, and for a moment he snarled at her.

Jenna didn't say anything.

"Deacon," Dustin growled, for the first time letting anger slip into his voice. "Deacon, that's enough."

Deacon's fangs slid back into place, hidden from view then, and he shook his head. "If that doesn't convince you, then—"

The young hunter's fist swung out, and Deacon's head snapped to the side as her punch landed hard.

"Fuck, kid!" Deacon yelped, stepping back away from her, shock painting his face as he lifted a hand and covered the spot she'd hit. "The fuck was that for!" He snarled out a curse at Luca when the doctor failed to hold in a snort.

"Don't…" Jenna drew her hand back closer to herself, eyes narrowed on him. "Don't do that," she hissed. "I'm not…" she shook her head. "What—"

"Let us," Dustin tried again, this time being the one to shoulder Deacon out of his way, taking up the flustered man's spot. "Give you a lift. We can play question tennis during the ride. Alright? …Look, we won't hurt you. If we wanted to, any of us could have done so by now. Right?"

"Yeah well I'm started to rethink bein' nice," grumbled Deacon.

"Get over it," Luca said, "it's not like she hit you that hard."

"Fuck off."

"Deacon," Dustin growled. "One more word and—you know what? You're staying here."

"Fuck no!" Deacon barked.

"Cole, keep an eye on him."

Cole's mouth twitched down in a frown for a moment, but he didn't argue.

Dustin looked back at Jenna, waiting for an answer, and grunted when she nodded. "Alright. Truck is right there…what was your name?" he asked, leading the way to the heavy black Ford.

"Jenna," she answered. Luca offered her up the front passenger seat, and took one of the back seats himself as Dustin slid into the driver's side, starting the truck while Deacon flipped them all the bird before storming back into the cabin, Cole following after him.

"Which hotel are you staying at?" Dustin asked first as the truck made its way slowly over the hill.

Jenna tilted her head and looked around the inside of the car before she answered. It smelled like dirt, leather, some sort of cologne and something else she was scared to identify, because she recognized it all too easily. "The ah…" she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to remember. "The…the one with the picture of the sun on the sign," she muttered.

"The Happy Sun?"

"Is that what it's called?"

"I know," Dustin smirked, pulling onto the road. "Sounds like a candy bar or an old eighties tv show." He glanced at her when she stayed quiet.

"…So about this shifter, first," he began, and brought his eyes back to the road in front of him after watching her sag into her seat a bit, careful with her injured arm. "How did all that start?"

"I've been hunting it," she said softly, eyes looking off to the side at the pine trees chugging by slowly. Dustin was taking his time getting her back to the hotel. "For a couple months now. I tracked all the murders he's been committing, and…I've only run into him once before last night. He was…human then." She cleared her throat. "It's how he knows my name. I didn't know what he was then."

Dustin arched a brow. "Go on."

"About what? He warned me then, was all. Told me if I was smart I'd run off back home." Her smile was tight. "I didn't. And last night…we bumped into each other again, only…he was less human and more…teeth."

"Hn." Dustin was quiet for a moment as the truck lumbered into the town limits, passing the first chunk of new, for sale houses slowly. "It's your turn to ask something," he told her.

"Oh. Ah…how…how is it that a bunch of vampires really don't…know about stuff like this?"

"The only reason I can come up with to answer that is the fact that we've kept strictly to ourselves and this town since…turning," he said after a moment. "Honestly, we thought that…vampires were the only exception. I've been alive sixty years and I've never seen anything else."

"Sixty?" she asked. "How old were you when you were—"

"Bitten? Thirty five," he told her.

When she looked back at Luca he shrugged and said he was thirty three. "Deacon was twenty six and Cole twenty nine."

"…And you—" she began, but Dustin held up a hand.

"My turn."

"…Alright, go," she said.

"What else is out there? There are shapeshifters, I got that. Is that really all?"

"…No." She shook her head. "No it's not. There are, ah…there are—" she paused then and looked at him from across the car. "Do you…really want to know? About it? I mean…maybe it'd be better if you just dropped me off and—"

"Answer the question, Jenna," Dustin said softly.

"…Shapeshifters. Witches, ghosts, ghouls, vampires," she said with a small nod. "There are demons and werewolves, too."

"And you've…you've hunted all of these?" Luca asked. He looked out the window and grunted. They were getting close to her hotel.

"No," she breathed through a small, exhausted laugh. "No, no I haven't. I've only gone up against two ghosts and this shifter by myself. I'm…I'm new," she added, swallowing. "But…I know the rest are real. I met two guys who told me about them a while ago... Hunters. Really good ones. They've fought just about everything." She reached up and rubbed the back of her neck.

Dustin only nodded, taking in everything. The hotel came into view only a minute later, and he pulled into the parking lot slowly. "You get one more question," he said when the truck was parked and idle.

Jenna paused for a moment, thinking. "You don't drink human blood, do you?" she asked slowly.

"No," he said without skipping a beat. "Never. It's…been hard, building up the control, but no. We don't attack people." He shook his head. "Albeit animal blood isn't the best tasting stuff in the world, but…the other option is something we don't like to think about."

"I didn't know vampires like you existed," she said. "The rest of you…from what I've heard at least, aren't…aren't half as…"

"We figured," Luca shrugged. "The legends and myths have to come from somewhere."

"Yeah."

The truck idled in silence for a while, the three quiet until she cleared her throat and opened her door. "I…thanks for the lift. And the stitches."

"Don't worry about it," Luca said. "I'd feel better about this though, if you would just go to the hospital here in town before you leave. Honestly, I'd like it if you waited for the stitches to heal completely before you—"

"I have to keep moving, now," she said flatly, and Luca closed his mouth before easing back into his seat, quiet.

"…Take this," Dustin said after a moment, before she could close the door. It was a little paper with a number scribbled on it. "You have a phone right?"

"Yeah," she said.

"Alright then," he nodded, and left it at that, letting her take the offer without pressing anything. "Good luck, Jenna."

She nodded and stepped away from the truck, watching it back out of the spot and leave the parking lot and the hotel behind, slipping back onto the empty street and driving off in the direction they had come from. The girl swallowed a little thickly and glanced around the dark, abandoned lot before circling the hotel for her room number, digging the key out of her pocket before pushing the door to her room open. Room 23.

Closing the door behind her, she let out a breath and leaned against it, closing her eyes and counting to ten backwards. It had been a pretty interesting past couple of days, hadn't it? But God, did her arm hurt. And she was still dizzy. If she was lucky, she'd fall asleep and wouldn't get back up for a week.

She opened her eyes, squinting into the dark of her room. She could see the shadowy, blobby shapes of the single bed, the television stand, the mini fridge, and—

Her blood went cold.

At the far end of the room, standing in the pocket beside the bathroom door, was a tall, slender shape. And she knew instantly that whatever it was, had not been in her room before. But she didn't move, staring at it, waiting for something to happen, too petrified to do much else. Absently she thought of the four vampires, and her hand clenched over the little paper reflexively, making it crumple. Would they be able to do anything anyway?

"_Jenna_," the shape said, and her heart sank into the pit of her stomach as those suspicions and fears were confirmed.

Her hand shifted over and touched the doorknob, but the shifter moved quicker than she expected, and she winced as a pair of hands slammed into the door on either side of her head. "_You made some terrible decisions the other night._" His voice was rough and raw; so different from the silvery purr it used to be.

She was silent, and she resisted the urge to shrink down against the door when she saw the glint of his teeth in the dim light as he grinned. "_I warned you. Didn't I warn you?_"

"I'm stubborn," she told him, hating her voice for shaking like it was. She winced when he barked out a laugh, closing her eyes as that laugh spiraled into a choking noise as he ducked and began coughing.

"_That hurt. That little trick you pulled. With the chain,_" he growled when the coughing subsided. "_Hurt a lot. I'm fairly certain I was dead for a while._"

"I was hoping," she whispered, and watched his grin widen. Her eyes were adjusting to the dark, and she could make out messy, long hair and the narrowed shape of his eyes.

"_Those bloodsuckers should have finished the job, really. I was completely vulnerable. For hours. Weak as they were, they could have done it._"

Jenna let out a breath. "They were busy."

"_Mm, yes._" His head tilted down, and one of his hands slid down the door, making her tense when she felt his fingertips brush against the bandages over her arm lightly. "_I left my own little marks, didn't I? I meant to kill you, then. I told you I'd—But then again, look at you. You're hardly keeping yourself up on your own anyway, are you?_"

She hissed when he pushed his fingers a bit harder against her arm, and the smell of blood sharpened her senses for an instant before dulling everything, making her focus just how dizzy she really was at that point. Her knees were wobbling. If she hadn't been leaning against the door, she was sure she'd just topple over.

"_I'm starting to like this outcome, though. Very much._" He lifted his hand from her arm, tongue darting out from between his teeth to lap up something dark from his fingers. "_I get to enjoy it this time._"


	3. Bruises and stitches and deals oh my

**AN:** Thanks for reading :3 And yes, yes indeed Sam and Dean will be making appearances a little later in the story. This little group of trouble makers just needed to get that head start is all. Jenna's hardly scraped the top of the Hunter world, and Dean and Sam are pretty deep in it. Also: they aren't going to be the only canons to make appearances. I love me some original Supernatural cast. Anyway, onwards!

Chapter 3

_Bruises and stitches and deals oh my_

...

..

.

_Jenna sunk down a bit lower in her seat, holding onto her glass of orange juice loosely while her arm rested almost lazily across the drive-by old fashioned diner table. She was exhausted, honestly. She'd tracked the shapeshifter to this little truck-stop town, and now? Nothing. She had no idea where to go at this point, since the last victim had no family or friends to talk to. So, sulking while chugging down her favorite drink in the whole world seemed like the next best thing to do. What she could probably use though was a coffee, as tired as she felt. Too bad she never much liked the stuff._

_She glanced down at the front of her oversized navy blue sweatshirt and frowned a bit. She needed to get the thing washed soon. It was starting to smell like fast food._

_With a sigh, she lifted her free hand and brushed a couple of loose strands of hair back behind her ear. It was silly, really, why she even bothered to tie her brown hair back into a ponytail in the first place if she didn't care enough to tie back the long chunks that wiggled free and hung by her ears and cheeks. _

_She dropped that hand and shuffled around her pocket for a moment before pulling out an old, beat up, flip-open cell phone. She flipped it open and her thumb was slow about maneuvering her to the contact list and moving down past a couple of names she didn't ever call and stopped over 'hospital'._

_Jenna stared at the word for a long time, her thumb hovering over the green 'call' button before someone cleared their voice just beside her table and made her jump, snapping the phone closed and looking up, straightening instantly and almost spilling her orange juice._

"_I_—haha, sorry—was just about to say it doesn't look as if the orange juice is doing much for you,_" the stranger said with what probably could have been an award winning white smile. He was tall and lean, clean shaven, and his long black hair was tied back into a neat ponytail at the base of his skull._

_She blinked, feeling a bit of heat rush to her face, suddenly feeling so self conscious about her own mussy hair. _

"Can I sit down?_" he asked, his voice reminding her of the purr of a cat for some reason, but she only nodded quietly at his question, lifting her glass of orange juice and taking a small sip to give her mouth something to do if her voice wasn't going to work for her._

"You aren't from around here, are you?_" he began, slipping into the seat opposite her and making himself comfortable, crossing his arms casually on the table. "_It's just that…this is a small town. Most people you can tell, one way or another, if they're from outside or not. Are you…?_"_

"_Yeah, just…uh. I'm just sort of passing through I guess," she said, looking up from the rim of her glass at him after shrugging her shoulders. "…Am I really that out of place?" she said with a snort, letting a small smile show._

_He grinned at seeing it, and she ignored the little flip-flop her teenage-girl heart pulled. It was so strange. She'd spoken to plenty of…well, cute guys, but this one was flustering her just by grinning at her. She felt stupid for a moment, and scolded herself for it, but pressed the thoughts aside a moment later, focusing on him again._

"Just a bit. You look a bit…ruffled is all,_" he said kindly, and she looked down at her frayed, too-big sweatshirt. Beneath it, the thick collar of another sweatshirt could be seen. If he had spotted her before she sat down, he'd have seen worn down blue jeans and dirty shoes. First impression? Homeless kid._

_When she didn't think of anything to say, quiet and scolding herself mentally again for even being quiet, he cleared his throat and said a soft apology. "_Can I buy you a coffee?_"_

"_No, no, that's…it's fine," she shook her head._

"I insist,_" he smiled. "_That was rude, what I said. Let me make it up to you?_"_

_She forgot she didn't like coffee and nodded mutely._

"Great,_" he said, that smile still there as he called a waitress over and asked for her coffee. During the order he glanced at her and asked if she liked sugar or milk in hers. She nodded to both questions and he finished the order, the waitress standing there for a couple extra seconds. Jenna wasn't sure if it was to make sure he had finished ordering or if she was staring at him._

_Honestly, she hoped it was the latter. Then she wouldn't feel so stupid by being the only one flustered by the eye candy sitting across from her._

"_Who are you?" she heard herself ask, and snapped her mouth shut as soon as the question left her, narrowing her eyes down at her orange juice as if it was all the drink's fault. _

"My name is Conall,_" he said simply, and laughed when she just nodded again. "_I don't bite,_" he told her._

_She looked up at him then again. "I'm Jenna," she said after a second, and thanked him when the coffee arrived._

"Jenna,_" he said, clicking his tongue after saying her name. "_…Nice to meet you._"_

_She laughed, ducking her head. "Nice to meet you, too." She lifted her coffee, hesitating for a moment, before she took a sip, blinking because it wasn't nearly as bitter and terrible as she thought it was going to be. She liked it, even. "This is good," she said, tone surprised._

_Conall smirked, eyes flashing. "_Well. I'd hope so._"_

_The girl wouldn't have believed you if you told her, but more than an hour passed by, the two talking quietly about this and that. They found they had the same taste in music (Jenna having a thing for Elvis and oldies), movies (she loved Charlie Chaplin), and food as well (steak cooked medium rare? They had shared a little fist bump, even)._

_Only when he steered the topics more in the direction to talk about herself did she get a bit hesitant, fiddling with her coffee and the sleeves of her sweatshirt. He'd asked her things like where she was from, if she had any brothers or sisters… The first few times Conall had just smoothly transferred to a different subject when she grew uncomfortable, but at the simple question "_So what are you doing in town?_" he wasn't easing off. He waited patiently, keeping quiet instead of asking something else._

"_I'm…" She cleared her throat and took another little sip of her coffee. "I guess you could say this is a…um. Road trip?"_

"A road trip, hm?_" Conall played with his own drink—he had ordered himself a black coffee as their conversation went on. "_I take it this is a road trip your parents don't know about then._"_

"_I'm older than I look," she muttered, and he barked out a laugh._

"I'm not saying you're not old enough to be out on your own,_" he explained, tone apologetic. "_You just have to wonder. I'm sorry, but you really don't…look as if this is a purely for-fun sort of trip._"_

"_It's not," she said softly. When he was quiet she sighed and shook her head. _

"You ran away?_" he asked, tone losing the edge his smile gave it._

"…_I'm looking for someone."_

_His brows shot up and he tilted his head. "_Who?_"_

"_Uh…an…uncle. Of mine. I'm…trying to patch up a bad spot between him and—and my dad," she said, voice quavering through the lie. She was always terrible at lying._

"…Really,_" Conall's smile seemed to melt away and he leaned back into his seat. "_What's his name?_"_

"…_Uh—"_

"Jenna. I'm going to be perfectly honest with you,_" he said, and his tone dropped, making her blink. "_I don't like being lied to._"_

_She stared at him for a moment, a bit taken aback before she narrowed her eyes at him and placed her coffee mug on the table. "How would you know? And why'd it be any of your business anyway?"_

"Oh, Jenna. Jenna, this is all my business,_" he purred, and suddenly he leaned over the table a bit, voice barely a whisper—just for her. "_I know what you're really doing here, girl. You've been following me._"_

_The color from Jenna's face bled out, but she didn't shrink back. She stared at him, eyes still narrowed, her teeth gritting together. _

"I'll give you a warning. Because instead of trying to coax you outside so I could drag you off somewhere and kill you? I think I've decided that I like you a little bit. It's not every day you meet a girl who likes Elvis and Chaplin._" His thick bangs fell in front of his eyes a bit as he ducked his head, grin widening. "_One warning. That's more than anyone has ever gotten from me. If you're smart, and I'm guessing you are, you'll run back to wherever you came from._"_

"_You—" she began, a mix of fear and anger thickening her voice. But she jumped, biting back a yelp when he reached forward and placed a hand on top of her head. His touch was light, gentle even, as he traced the backs of his fingers down the side of her face before gripping her chin lightly, forcing her to keep her eyes on him if she felt like looking away, and she hated all the heat that rushed back to her face._

"Little hunter. You don't belong on this side of the street. Go home, Jenna. Before I change my mind._"_

_He stood, left enough money to cover everything on her table, and left without another word._

.

The hand closed tight around her throat was cutting off everything, and it didn't relent no matter how much she clawed at it, struggling under a grip so much stronger than she was. Pressed against the floor, her left arm bleeding from several ripped stitches and soaking through the bandages, she already felt close to passing out. But the shifter would loosen his grip and let her breath, laughing before his hold tightened again and she struggled to keep her heart beating.

"_First person I've ever bothered to give a heads up to, and you turn around and shove it down my throat,_" he growled. "_Literally._"

"Nnk!" Jenna thrashed for a moment, adrenaline giving her fleeting bursts of energy. But the kicking and writhing was useless. He was strong.

"_You want to know how much it hurt? I could get some metal and heat it up red. Put it on your tongue and burn it off._"

"I'm—" she choked and his grip loosened a bit, eyes amused at her attempt to speak. "I'm not—not sorry," she gasped, cracking her eyes open and glaring at him. "You're…m-murderer," she hissed, sucking in a deep breath. "M-monster."

"_Name calling. Cute._" He squeezed her neck again and she thrashed some more. "_Hush, Jenna,_" he scolded when she let out a noise that was louder than the others she'd made. "_I'll kill anyone who comes in here looking for trouble if you start attracting attention._"

She grit her teeth and he nodded.

"_Good girl._" He lifted his free hand from the floor at her side, supporting himself on his knees and the hand around her neck. "_Now keep your eyes open and watch the show,_" he purred, and her eyes darted to his hand. He held it off to the side a bit, fingers splayed, and grunted as the muscles in his wrist and hand seemed to twitch and vibrate, his fingers clenching as his nails elongated and sharpened, curving into wicked claws.

She couldn't keep back the low whimper that left her when he brought those claws closer to her, and closed her eyes when he brushed the tips against her cheek.

"_Brace yourself,_" he said slowly. "_This is going to hurt—_"

There was a startling crash of splintering wood, and she bit back a cry when his claws jerked and cut into skin, raking thin lines down the bottom of her jaw, missing her cheek. The shifter looked up, a snarl ripping from his throat, a similar noise coming from the door.

Bristling as his eyes dropped to the two of them, Dustin hissed out a low curse and took a step closer. The shapeshifter released her, standing, but not budging from his spot over her.

"_You really want to press this, vampire?_" Conall hissed.

"Get away from the girl," he growled.

"_Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you?_" snapped Conall. "_She's _my_ goddamn catch._" The nails on his other hand lengthened and grew into claws as well, and he tensed both of his shoulders, ducking his head and glaring at him beneath messy, matted hair. "_You try and separate the wolf from his food, he'll snap you in two._"

"Try it," the vampire snarled as his full set of fangs came into view, and without warning threw himself at the shapeshifter, tackling him hard and sending the two flying back and away from Jenna.

The girl stared up at the ceiling, muscles in her neck on fire while searing pain shot through her arm and the new marks on her neck. She tried to sit up to get herself out of there, but couldn't even manage to lift her head, and the ceiling began to spin above her.

She didn't have the energy to even look around as she felt a pair of hands lift her by her shoulders, her head lolling back. But Luca came into her line of sight as he slipped his other arm beneath her legs and scooped her up, holding her close as he hurried out of the small hotel room. She didn't see Deacon and Cole dart past into the room to help Dustin, her eyes having closed by then.

"I've got you," Luca said quietly. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

Jenna couldn't do a thing but let the vampire lay her out in the back seats of the truck, jumping into the driver's seat and starting the engine. He was silent, looking back at the hotel room where the fight was raging before he shoved the pedal to the floor and all but leapt out of the parking lot and onto the road, tires squealing as he put as much distance between the two of them and the shapeshifter in as little time as he could, knowing she was closer than ever now to drifting off forever.

.

Dustin's head snapped back a he was thrown into a wall, cracking the plaster behind the cheap wallpaper before he fell back to his feet, shaking his head.

"_I'll kill you,_" Conall snarled. "_I'll kill all of you—she was mine!_" He threw an arm out, breaking through the block Deacon had thrown up and striking the man back as well, Deacon striking the television and breaking it. Sparks flew for a moment as the screen shattered and cut into delicate circuitry, but the vampire stood up again quickly, unphased and growling, fangs bared.

The shifter leapt for Dustin, ignoring Deacon and ramming him back into the wall, making the redheaded man hiss out a noise between his teeth as Conall dug those claws into his gut. But he reached up, wrapping his hands around Conall's throat, pressing his thumbs against his windpipe and narrowed his eyes when the shifter howled and drew back when the still-sensitive area was pressed, snarling and coughing as he staggered back.

"_Damn…vermin vampire—_"

_Cli-click_

Conall tensed instantly, and tilted his head, eyes falling on the small gun pointed in his direction. Cole held the weapon steadily, staring at the shifter with icy eyes.

"Guess what I just found under the sink," he said quietly.

"…_What are you going to do with that?_" he spat, baring his teeth. "_Guns don't do shit—_"

"Through the heart right?" Cole said slowly, and tilted the gun down a bit, aiming for the shifter's chest instead of his head. "Silver bullet. Right to the heart. Jenna knew what she was after."

"…" Conall stared at Cole for a moment, and the air was electric, the air nearly malleable with it. Slowly, the shifter lowered his head and dropped his clawed hands to his sides, never breaking eye contact with Cole. "…_Fine. This round is yours._" He moved fast, darting away from Dustin and shoving past Deacon, the black haired man stumbling into Cole's line of fire.

"Deacon move—!" Cole shouted, but cursed, dropping the weapon and running after the shifter, stopping in the middle of the dim parking lot, tuning his ears carefully to catch something to follow. But there wasn't anything to hear; he'd gotten away. "Dammit," he said under his breath.

"Fucking—fuck!" Deacon threw his arms in there, standing just outside the doorway. "Fucking brilliant! So the bastard got away!"

"Yes, he did," Dustin said, tugging his shirt away from the skin of his abdomen, looking down at the dark points of blood there. The wounds would heal closed soon though, and he knew it.

"Where's the kid?" Deacon asked, turning and looking at Dustin as the redhead slowly made his way out of the hotel room into the cool night air. "Luca take her back to the house?"

"No, Luca took her to the hospital," Dustin said, and looked around the parking lot, taking in a deep breath. When Cole asked him about the wounds in his stomach, Dustin waved him off, saying he was fine. "Deacon, Cole, the both of you, start…packing up all of her things. Double check everything, we aren't coming back here."

Cole hesitated, staring at him. "…What's going on? What are we doing?"

"First, we're going to check her out of her hotel early," Dustin said, tone soft. "And then we're going to bring her things to the hospital. And then…" the man looked down at the red stains on his shirt again, and was quiet for a few seconds. "…We'll talk about it later."

.

"So…so she was attacked by a bear and then mugged? And the attacks were within a day of each other?" A nurse stared at Jenna, sound asleep. She had to have been the fourth or fifth nurse who had asked Luca the question.

Her body had already been given new blood and an iv, and everyone was saying she would pull through fine. Not without her scars, but she would be alright. The bruises around her neck were dark, and the cuts below her jaw were thin and shallow enough to just let them heal on their own without stitches.

It had been two nights since Conall's assault in the hotel room. She had only woken up once since then, and that was to eat.

Luca had been playing the part of the worried, terrified uncle. He hadn't left the hospital room once since she had been admitted and given her own room. Especially not since Dustin and the others had stopped by later that first night after she was settled for the most part and told him that the shifter was still alive. He couldn't leave her alone.

And with the 'talk' Dustin kept hinting about having once she was well enough to talk back, he doubted the redhead wanted to either. The four of them had their moral code, and leaving a kid to her grisly, inevitable fate without stepping in and trying to stop it was something none of them could stomach.

"Yes," Luca said softly, and the nurse covered her mouth with a hand. "She's a strong one though, she'll pull through."

"Oh, of course she will, honey," the nurse said, and touched his shoulder sympathetically before moving over to Jenna's bed to check the machines that were monitoring her, jotting a few things down on a clipboard before leaving the room and closing the door softly behind her.

Luca heaved a sigh and leaned back in the uncomfortable plastic chair, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back. It was a good thing vampires didn't need to eat every day like humans did. Once a week was healthy enough and kept them going and strong.

For a moment he wondered just what on earth he and the others were getting themselves into, and as if on command, the thought was broken by the group themselves.

Deacon shoved his way in first, graceful as ever, and dropped himself down in a seat beside Luca, Cole moving in next and sitting beside Deacon as Dustin closed the door behind him and sat on Luca's other side. Deacon and Cole had been playing Jenna's cousins, while Dustin was Luca's brother and her other uncle.

"She wake up at all today?" Deacon asked.

"Once. She had some lunch," he said.

"Good thing this room doesn't have any fuckin' windows or you'd have one helluva burn, eh?" Deacon grinned and Luca ignored him.

"Did she say anything to you?" Dustin asked, and Luca shook his head.

"I don't think she can talk right now. But she wasn't scared. In fact…when she saw I was here…she fell back asleep."

Dustin grunted. "Good."

The four sat in silence for a few minutes, the steady rhythm and beep of the machines surrounding her along with several machines from nearby rooms filling their heads with white noise.

"So what are we gonna do about her?" Deacon asked twenty minutes into the quiet. "I mean…the hell are we doing? I understand the whole checking up on her thing—and I'm cool with it—but are we going to let her—"

"I told you that we would talk about this when she wakes up," Dustin said calmly, interrupting him. "And not before that."

"I don't know about you," Deacon muttered. "But I don't wanna just let the kid walk outta town by herself."

"…I'm glad to hear you say that," Dustin said softly, and Deacon blinked.

"So that's what you wanna do, huh?" Deaon went on. "You want us to go with her? Wherever the fuck that is?"

"I told you we're not—"

"Yeah, talking about it until she wakes up. Well at least get the okay from all of us before that. It'd suck if you asked her and some of us decided we didn't want to go," Deacon growled, and Dustin was quiet for a minute.

"…It's up to all of you, really," he said. "I'm not having us uproot if everyone doesn't agree. And I'm not having us split up either."

"I would go," Cole said after a moment.

"Fuck yeah I'd go," Deacon hissed. "Not a lot around here ever going on anyway. And that shapeshifter fuck pisses me off. He touches her again I'll—" the other three ignored the graphic, violent threats that Deacon spat, Luca looking at Dustin while the youngest vampire went on and on.

"I'll follow you, Dustin. I've always followed you. And if there was ever a good reason to finally leave town…this is it." He looked over at Jenna and let out a breath. "She…doesn't seem like a bad kid either. She's strong." Luca steepled his fingers for a moment, letting out a sigh. "Still. We need to be sure all of us know what we're really dealing with. She says she hunts things like the shifter."

"And ghosts n' shit," Deacon added. "Fuckin'…fighting ghosts. It's like we're joining the Ghostbusters."

"Dangerous a good word," Luca said.

"Pf," Deacon snorted. "Fuck danger. I'll take on anything."

…

More silence.

At one point another nurse with her blonde hair tied back in a bun came in to drop off some late-night dinner for her in case she woke up, and trotted out of there after nodding at the quiet, brooding little bunch.

"...So…what, is this gonna be a repeat of last night?" Deacon said when the nurse had left. "I mean, how long is she going to stay knocked out like this?" He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, yawning. Really, it was their morning. He'd only woken up a couple of hours ago, just after the sun set.

"She woke up earlier today. She might not wake up again at all tonight—"

There was a breathy, strained noise and the four looked up, watching Jenna's good arm lift and press over her eyes for a moment.

Luca was the first to stand, and dragged his chair over before placing it closer to her bed, sitting beside the tray with the still-warm food. "Jenna?"

"Wh…" She swallowed, and her hand drifted from over her eyes to her throat, wincing.

"Don't strain yourself kid," Deacon huffed from the foot of her bed where he stood.

"…" She blinked a few times, taking in her surroundings. When she had woken up last she remembered seeing Luca sitting by himself in the chairs pressed against the opposite wall. Seeing the four vampires who had rescued her from the shifter really wasn't that much of a shock.

But quickly enough, her eyes dropped to her dinner, and the instant she saw the mashed potatoes and chicken her stomach growled loudly.

"Eat your dinner," Luca coaxed, "We'll talk while you get some food in you, okay? And…hold on—Cole? Cole, go ask one of the nurses for a writing pad and a pen so she doesn't have to talk if she has any questions."

Cole nodded and disappeared out the door.

Jenna grunted as she sat up, favoring her injured arm—all wrapped up in fresh bandages and new stitches—and placing it tenderly on her lap before pulling the tray closer and grabbing up the little plastic fork. When Cole came back he handed her a small notebook, placing it beside her along with the pen before he moved back to the wall and sat down.

She took a bite of the mashed potatoes first before grabbing the notebook, taking a few extra moments with only one hand to flip it open and uncap the pen, actually swatting at Dustin's hand when he tried to help. She scribbled for a moment before placing the notebook on her knees, the sentence she wrote facing them, taking another bite as she stared at them over her tray.

_What are you all doing here?_ the notebook asked.

"Checking up on you," Dustin answered honestly. "We were worried."

Jenna tapped the white plate with her fork for a moment, watching them before taking another bite and reaching for the notebook. She took another minute to scribble something else, and replaced the message on her knees again.

_I'll be fine, _it said.

"We don't doubt it," Dustin went on. "But…" he glanced at Luca, who cleared his throat.

She pulled the notebook back again.

_You finished the job with the shapeshifter right?_

Dustin let out a breath and looked back at her. "When…we broke into the hotel to help…the shifter got away from us during the fight." He frowned when she paled, and ignored the sting of disappointment in himself at the failure. "…We're sorry," he added after a moment, tone soft.

Jenna looked down at her notebook before she shook her head and placed the pen on top of it, eating silently for a few minutes, keeping her eyes on her plate.

Deacon's fingers drummed over the plastic footboard of the hospital bed, eyes darting between the girl and the notebook before he grunted and spoke up. "We want to go with you," he said, and Dustin actually hissed at him, eyes narrowing while Jenna's head shot up as she stared at him.

"Deacon," the vampire growled.

"What? Look at her, she's about ready to fuckin' cry," Deacon growled back, meeting the eldest's stare hard. "I want her to know we aren't gonna fuckin' ditch and let her wander off somewhere without a little extra help."

"Watch your tone," Dustin said, tone dropping again, masking the old flash of anger. "This isn't up to you—"

"I know it's not up to me, Jesus! I'm just telling her that—"

A dinner roll bounced off of Deacon's head, and the four vampires blinked, heads turning to look back at Jenna, who had snatched up her notebook and was scribbling again vehemently. Instead of placing the message on her knees when she was done, she simply held it out in front of her.

_I don't want anyone going with me._

"Bullshit! Why not!" Deacon almost barked.

"If you don't watch yourself, you're out," Luca said, and Deacon clenched his jaw.

She scribbled again.

_You'll all end up getting butchered._

She paused, then flipped the notebook back around and wrote something else.

_Literally._

"Jenna," Dustin started, and shook his head. "Jenna if that's your only concern—"

"Drop it," Deacon cut in. "We held our own against the damn mutt, and I bet we could have taken him if he hadn't run off in the first place."

"Deacon—" Dustin began, tone dipping into icy again.

"And ghosts and shit? If you could do it, why the fuck couldn't we do it? Kid, you can turn us down, you'll be walking out of this hospital with a big ol' target on your back and no one around to help if that shifter fuck tries to—"

"If. You. Interrupt me again," Dustin growled, agitation dripping from his voice. "You. Are. Waiting. Outside."

Deacon crossed his arms and glared off to the side, snorting. But he was quiet.

Jenna brought her notebook closer to her, quiet.

"I know this is strange. Very strange. You don't know us, for starters." Dustin said.

Jenna blinked.

"Secondly, we are, in fact, vampires."

Deacon mumbled something under his breath along the lines of "We're supposed to be trying to convince her to let us go" with a few added curses tossed in, but was quiet enough to avoid Dustin's glare and a kick outside.

"But you're in terrible shape at the moment, no offense. You won't be able to speak without hurting your throat for at least a few days, and your stitches will take at least two weeks to heal completely."

Luca nodded at this, watching her.

"Does your arm hurt right now?"

Jenna looked down at the clean white bandages, wrinkling her nose before lifting her hand and wiggling it back and forth in a 'so-so' gesture.

Dustin only nodded. "And when that shapeshifter left…he made it apparent that he would come back. He said we'd won 'this round' before running off."

She looked down at her notebook, fingers clenching over the cheap black pen.

"Luca was—is a doctor. He can replace the bandages and he would know what to look for if you let him check the stitches over. And…honestly, finding out that…well." He crossed his arms loosely, glancing at the other three for a moment. "Finding out that things like shapeshifters and ghosts even existed…it makes me curious. It makes all of us curious."

"Left out, is more like it," Deacon mumbled. "If all these other vampires know shit, then—" he paused when Dustin focused his stare on him and quieted, frowning after letting out a huff.

"If anything, think of it as teaming up, I suppose," Luca said, shrugging his shoulders a bit. "Both parties gain something from the deal. I'll make sure your arm heals up, we'll be there to help you if that…shapeshifter shows up again. And the four of us leave this little speck of a town and learn more about what we've apparently been missing out on for the past thirty years since turning."

He grinned then. "And we're not so bad. You already know this, but we're on a strictly animal-only diet. Cole doesn't really talk much, but he's nice enough. Dustin used to be an incredible cook; he could probably try and relearn a couple of those skills." Luca smirked when Dustin snorted. "…And Deacon's an asshole, but you get used to him."

Deacon flipped Luca the bird and stalked back to sit in the chair beside Cole, crossing his arms and glaring at his boots, elbowing Cole when the vampire grinned.

"It's up to you, though, of course. One hundred percent your decision. You just have to write down 'no' on that paper and we'll leave you alone. We'll walk right out of the room and you won't hear from us again." Dustin looked back at Deacon and Cole for a moment. "And you don't have to decide right now. You can—"

But Jenna had lifted up her notebook and began to write something, so Dustin quieted.

When she flipped the pad around, Dustin let out a breath and nodded, smiling a bit before moving back to the wall and taking a seat beside Deacon. Luca glared at the youngest vampire when he pumped a fist in to the air and just about shouted something about "finally leaving this fuckin' town behind" and "kicking that shifter fuck's ass" and began to say something else when Cole elbowed him.

On the paper was a single word, and Jenna placed the notepad down on her lap again to finish eating when she was sure everyone had read it.

_Deal._


	4. Three weeks later

**AN:** Hi everyone :3 Long chapter to make up for the slow update, haha xD Sorry, this took me a bit longer than the others to write. I started at the end then sort of built myself backwards, if that makes sense. Sometimes I write stuff funky, pft. Also, the Winchester bros will be appearing soon o3o I don't know about in the next chapter for sure yet, we'll see how that goes, but soon! Very soon! But also...if I may huff and puff a bit about this story, haha. I don't know yet or not if anything romantic will ever happen in this story. Which is odd for me o.o Because I love romance -rolls the r- And I'd love to write it in! I'm not saying it won't, I'm just ridiculously confused as to how. And at the moment, I'm really damn sure it won't be a Winchester x Jenna. Jenna's sort of...uh. Not their type. I can't see it working, really. But the guys...Hm. I'm still thinking on it. At the moment, all they'll ever think about her relationship-wise is like she's the kid-sister, you know? But hm... If any of you have any thoughts, feel free to share xD

Chapter 4

_Three weeks later_

...

..

.

The first thing Deacon realized as he began to wake up from his murky, uncomfortable sleep, was that there was an arm tossed over his chest, and the vampire had a distinctly unpleasant realization that he was being cuddled with.

His gaze shifted from the cheap, chunky hotel ceiling down at the person beside him, and his frown at seeing Luca next to him curved downwards so deep that his mouth resembled a large C. So with a growled out grunt of early-morning groggy disgust, he pushed the doctor's arm off of him and sat up, blinking.

He glanced at the thick, drawn together curtains, squinting at the barest touches of setting sunlight creeping in through the top of the curtains and grunted. In the vampire book, especially for him, waking up with any sunlight still outside was 'early'.

A light clicking noise took his attention from the window and he turned his head, finding Jenna in the dark easily. Her back was facing him as she sat at the 'complimentary' tiny desk, settled in the low backed chair with cushions more akin to rocks than anything else. The clicking was a little pen she was tapping against her palm pilot—one of the only things of real value she had had on her when they found her all those days ago.

He remembered her asking where her things were, only an hour or so after agreeing to the whole 'partnership' thing. Cole had gone outside to the truck to bring in the old, frayed backpack, and handed it to her so she could promptly start sorting through it to make sure everything was accounted for.

One palm pilot, two shirts (both short sleeve), one extra pair of jeans (just as torn up as her other), some of what he could only assume were 'undergarments' by how she didn't lay them out on her lap to count, one toothbrush in a plastic bag along with a nearly-gone tube of toothpaste, seventy eight dollars in twenties, fives, and ones all stuffed in a film tube, two phone cards, a granola bar still in its wrapper, and a brush with a few of the bristles broken off. He knew there were other things kept in the smaller pockets, but she left them where they were after she merely checked to see if they were still in their rightful places before closing them back up, safe and sound. Before she could ask, Dustin had told her that the gun and silver bullets were back in their truck.

He remembered walking her out of the hospital after she'd been deemed healthy enough, and the awkward silence that had stretched between them on the way back to her hotel. She had a car still waiting for her there, actually. It was odd to Deacon though, because he had assumed she was a hitchhiker. She looked it at least, but he didn't say that out loud. And he didn't like the idea anyway.

The vehicle was an old 1990 Toyota Camry in need of one, or five, serious car washes. Jenna refused to sell it when they managed to talk her into using the larger, more comfortable truck as the car they would all travel around in. It was her father's car, she'd said. Dustin dropped any more pressing to sell it and told her she could leave it on their property if she wanted. And that was where it was, with the keys tucked away in one of the little pockets in that backpack of hers no doubt.

Without making a sound, he stood, glad enough he hadn't slept under the damn covers because Luca was buried into them like a mole. He stopped behind her after crossing the room silently, arching a brow before reaching up and rubbing his fingers over his eyes, still feeling a bit dazed from sleep. "Up so early?" he rumbled, and the girl jumped.

"Deacon, shoo," she scolded a second later. "This is like five in the morning for you. Nobody gets up that early."

"…" Deacon snorted and Jenna turned and tilted her head up to look at him.

"Do you have a problem?"

"Yeah your clickity-click shit woke me up," he lied, and grunted as he grabbed the other uncomfortable hotel chair and twisted it so it faced the desk, dropping himself in it with all the grace of a boulder reaching the end of its joyride in a rockslide down the side of some exhaustingly steep hill. "You aren't still researching that one bastard, are you?"

"His name," Jenna began, though not before apologizing for waking him up, "was Robert DeLake. And yes. I am."

"Dustin finished the research up last night for you. I thought we were all set to go," Deacon huffed, and looked out across the small hotel room.

Two queen sized beds, and a loveseat. It was awkward enough to jam four grown vampire men and a girl into one hotel room, let alone try and figure out how the hell the sleeping arrangements would work. But Luca had come up with a good enough plan that kept most of them happy. At the moment, Luca and (previously) Deacon were on one of the beds, Dustin was on the small couch, Cole had the floor to himself, and the top rule was that Jenna always got her own bed. Whoever got the floor rotated between the four vampires if they couldn't figure something else out.

"No but…something doesn't seem right," she sighed.

"Well. Go on, read me the bastard's history one more time," Deacon grunted, waiving his hand absently before sinking lower in his seat and closing his eyes.

Jenna tapped a few things on her little palm pilot searching for the right information, sighing before she started to shell out the facts, keeping her voice soft, all too aware of the three other sleeping forms in the dark room.

"Robert DeLake, born 1935, died 1966. He was accused of murdering his two younger sisters after they were found in his house, both shot once. It took police a while to find him, because they thought he'd fled the scene, but his own body was discovered in his basement, with a bullet in his head. He presumably left a note saying he basically killed himself out of guilt."

"Yeah, and now the fuck's haunting the place right?"

"Yeah I guess," she muttered.

"Any chance those sisters of his'll be there?" he added.

"There have never been any reports of the sisters being sighted. Just Robert. But the sightings are funny. Robert never does anything to hurt anyone visibly. He appears for a brief second, and then something violent happens, like a plate being tossed at someone, or someone else being shoved down some stairs."

"Hn. So, tonight is when we try and Ghostbuster 'im right to hell right?"

Jenna frowned, quiet, and leaned back in her chair a bit. Deacon cracked an eye open at her silence, and tilted his head, eyes falling on the palm pilot. She had scrolled to an image of the man—Robert, a man in his mid thirties with short, wavy black hair—and was staring at him, gnawing on her lower lip.

"So what do you think is wrong with this picture," he sighed, closing his eyes and dropping his head back against the wall.

"I don't buy the motive," she mumbled. "Their father was rich…and he was sick around the time the murders took place. I guess he was leaving all of his money to his kids. I mean…if Robert really did kill his sisters, maybe he'd hoped to get a bigger inheritance, but…I mean, he shot himself."

"Yeah, outta guilt. He said so himself."

"I don't know," she muttered, frowning. "I mean…someone as cold hearted as that, you'd think, wouldn't feel guilty enough to shoot themselves after doing something so terrible. Not when they had a reason like…like money."

Deacon grunted.

"But listen to this," she went on. "I did a bit more digging this morning—evening, darn, sorry, I'm still getting used to the new schedule," she mumbled.

"Hey, evenings are our mornings. Let them mix up all you want," he shrugged.

"Anyway, I found some other information out about the DeLake family. Apparently, Robert had a twin brother." She looked at Deacon. "And fifteen years after the first three deaths, one Mr. Alex DeLake killed himself in his brother's old house."

Deacon lifted his head and looked at her. "No shit?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "And no one reported any haunting from the place until a couple of years after his death."

"So why wasn't there a big story on him then? I've never heard of this Alex guy. And I even helped out with some of the research shit."

"He did the same thing his brother did. Killed himself in the basement of the house. And the place had been abandoned for years. It was another ten before anybody even found him. And it didn't stir up too big of a fuss when they did." She clicked some more and nodded. "I think the ghost we'll be dealing with is Alex's spirit. Not Robert's."

"Alright." But Deacon shrugged. "I don't know why you woke up so early to figure this out, though. Not really going to change any sort of strategy of ours is it? And sleep's important you know. You should take a nap."

She looked at him. "I'm eighteen. I know I don't _look_ it but I'm an adult. I don't need to take a nap." She let out a mock-offended huff before pausing, tone dropping again. "And... No, but…" Jenna turned her palm pilot off and left the room in near complete darkness. "I mean, if Robert was innocent…"

Deacon could see her perfectly, despite the dark. She was frowning again, and he let out a sigh, rolling his eyes despite himself. "Yeah, yeah. I get it. Guilty, not guilty thing. It's cool. So we gotta burn this Alex guy's body then, huh?" He sat up a bit straighter, leaning his elbow onto the desk, smirking a bit. "But hey, ghosts are easy right?"

"When did I ever say that?" she looked at him even though she couldn't see a thing.

"Well I'm just assuming. I mean, over a fuckin' shapeshifter, I'd think ghosts would be easier."

The girl shrugged. "Maybe."

"Maybe? Tch, c'mon. This'll be fuckin' cake."

.

When everyone was up and about later that 'morning', Jenna told the others the story about Alex while Deacon grinned and nodded along as if he'd done most of the research himself. She convinced Dustin it would be smarter to hunt down Alex's grave anyway, since Robert's wasn't even listed. Buried unmarked as a murderer, shunned by his family after death.

He agreed with her, and with the sun safely set, the five piled into the car, Jenna taking her usual spot in the passenger's side while Cole, Luca and Deacon squeezed into the back. She had offered to replace one of the men in the back many times, and while Deacon would grumble and mutter about that being a great idea, Dustin and Luca would scold him into silence and he'd drop it.

"It's okay, though," she said before Dustin started the engine. "My stitches are gone and my arm's all healed. Bumping into one of you won't hurt it anymore—"

"Really, Jenna," Cole sighed. "It's fine."

"…You all just looked so squished is all."

"That's a good word for it," Deacon mumbled, and Luca elbowed him, starting up a shoving match that had Dustin pressing his fingers into his temples to ward off a headache while Cole crossed his arms and frowned while he just pushed himself up against the car door to get as far away from the two as possible. Jenna swore she heard him curse under his breath and twisted in her seat to look back at the two, shaking her head before sitting back in her seat.

"I'm sure they'll stop soon. They usually do," she said, hope tracing the edge of her voice.

Five minutes into the drive, the pushing had stopped and pure bickering had taken its place.

Jenna looked at Dustin, then at his hands, which were gripping the steering wheel tightly enough to make his knuckles pale. "You okay?" she asked him.

"I'm used to it. But that doesn't make it any. Less. Irritating," he growled.

She only nodded.

Fifteen minutes in the shoving had started up again, as well as a full on insult-war. It was another forty five minutes to the cemetery—and at that point Jenna turned in her seat again, eyes narrowed.

The two usually argued and fought like siblings, but matches that went on for more than five minutes were rare. Dustin or Cole usually broke it up by then, but neither seemed interested in speaking up, just in case they lost control and snapped someone's irritating head off.

So, Jenna reached back and yanked at Luca's sleeve, narrowing her eyes when she was ignored.

"Stop—Deacon! Luca, quit it—Deacon, don't pull his hair!"

"Just let them go," Dustin sighed, and turned the radio on. Cole actually unbuckled his seat belt then so he could lean forward and between Jenna and Dustin, turning the volume up to the point where Deacon and Luca were completely drowned out by the thrumming bass of the rock music.

Jenna was positive she was deaf when they finally reached the cemetery, stumbling out of the truck as Dustin shut the car off and stepped outside, the utter silence almost alien sounding to her still-pulsating ears.

Deacon and Luca were incredibly quiet as they stepped out of the truck as well, she noticed. But maybe that was because she really was deaf and if they were arguing she wouldn't have heard it anyway—

"Where was this Alex's grave again?" Cole spoke up, and Jenna let out a small sigh of relief. Deacon grabbed the four shovels they had brought along from the back of the truck, and when Jenna scolded all of them for 'forgetting' hers, Deacon nudged her along with one of the handle-ends of the shovels, whistling.

Dustin lead the way, having been the one to do that leg of research. When they pinpointed the right grave, on a family plot surrounded by many other 'DeLakes', Deacon crossed his arms and frowned, all but dropping the four shovels in a heap on the ground.

Alex hadn't been buried under the earth. He had been buried above it; in a large, solid stone coffin.

"Fancy," Deacon huffed. The vampire had actually been looking forward to digging up his first grave. Dirt style.

"They were rich," Jenna reminded him, moving closer to the stone tomb and looking it over. His name and birth/death date were carved into the heavy looking lid. "Okay," she knelt and rummaged through her backpack, placing a carton of table salt and a small jug of lighter fluid on the grass beside her, hesitating before she remembered to pull out a small pad of yellow sticky notes as well. The four vampires circled the coffin and each gripped a corner of the lid, hoisting it up and placing it on the grass.

The body inside the tomb was skeletal; paper thin dried tissue clinging to the bones like the man's skeletons were shrinkwrapped with the stuff.

"Gross," Deacon mumbled, and the others rolled their eyes.

Jenna grabbed up the lighter fluid and salt, sprinkling the entire body with each before putting the two cartons down and fishing a small, cheap lighter out of her pocket. She scooped up the sticky notes and plucked one of the yellow papers off, putting the rest in her pocket while she held one corner of the small square carefully, setting the other end on fire.

Her thumb left the lighter, the flame disappearing, and she dropped the burning little note onto the body in the stone coffin, igniting it instantly.

When the bones were blackened and turning to ash, Deacon looked away and around at the group. "So now we go and see if this Alex guy is really gone, right?"

"Uh-huh," Jenna nodded. She knelt again and placed the lighter fluid and salt back in her backpack, zipping it up and tossing it over a shoulder again. She plucked at the sleeves of her new red sweatshirt and looked back at the body as she stood. "If the haunting stop, our job is done."

"Wow," Deacon grinned. "Y'know, if this is all there is to this ghost shit, it really is easy."

"We didn't even meet the thing," Luca said, rolling his eyes.

The flames' crackle was dying down; the glow it cast on all of them was diminishing.

"I know. We didn't have to. Were the two ghosts you went up against this easy?" he looked at her.

"Nope," she said, and left it at that, ignoring Deacon when he asked for details, watching the final flames sizzle out, leaving nothing but dust in the coffin. The four moved to hoist up the lid back to its rightful place, and Deacon snatched the shovels back up after the stone lid was settled. "Robert's old house—it's abandoned right?"

"I guess. It's for sale, but nobody's buying. The sign isn't even up anymore. It's just sitting there," Luca shrugged.

"Good," Jenna nodded. But as they reached the truck, she had to narrow her eyes when Cole and Luca all but crammed themselves into the back before the door was all the way open.

She eyed the remaining seat with an arched brow.

"Up front, Jenna," Dustin called as he slid into the driver's side.

Deacon wasn't budging either, eyes flicking from the back seat to shotgun.

"It's okay," the girl smiled at him. "You can have the—"

"Goddamn, stop smiling at me and being nice, Jesus," Deacon growled and stormed his way in front of her, slumping into the final seat in the back of the truck and slumping down. "How the hell am I supposed to steal shotgun when you're smiling and shit."

"Shut up," Luca grumbled, and Deacon told him where to shove it.

Jenna was laughing when she climbed into the front seat beside Dustin, closing her door lightly while Deacon slammed his shut.

"Seriously though," Deacon said after elbowing Luca to nudge himself a bit more room. "This was easy. Easy Bake Oven easy."

Jenna glanced back at him. "Yeah, we'll see."

.

"Shit!" Deacon yelped and ducked, barely dodging the heavy, solid oak table as it flew across the room towards him, fast and hard enough to knock his head off should it have hit. He let out a curse as he crouched, staying low to the ground, eyes darting around for the spirit of Alex DeLake to show himself.

"Luca! Luca, it's in here! Just threw a fucking table at me!"

"No shit it's not!" called the doctor from another room. "I just had a—"

There was a loud crash and a loud, barking shout.

"You alright?"

"I'm fine, my chest broke the bookshelf's fall."

"Cool." Deacon stood slowly and cautiously, narrowing his eyes. "Jenna! Jenna, you good?"

"I don't understand," the girl called back from another room. "We burned Alex's body! This shouldn't be happening!" she gave a yelp and Deacon rushed to the doorway into the dusty, peeling living room, spotting Cole as the dark haired vampire blocked a heavy marble bust that had been heading straight for Jenna's head. "Maybe it was Robert after all," she admitted slowly, blinking as Cole dropped the statue and remained alert for any more attacks, keeping the girl close.

"Great. Fucking great," Deacon groaned. "We come to check if the ghost is gone—and we get assaulted. No shit it's fucking Robert!"

"I'm sorry, okay!"

Another crash, the sound of shattering, tinkling glass mingling with the resounding thud.

…

"Who got hit with that one?" Luca called. "Wasn't me."

"Dustin?" Cole shouted.

"M'fine," the man called, voice muffled. He was upstairs. "Chandelier. I thought there was only one ghost in this place."

"There is!" Jenna said, looking around for danger as diligently as Cole. "We need to get back to the graveyard. I think it was Robert—"

"Robert's grave isn't even marked," Dustin called. "You would have to dig up the entire cemetery. They wouldn't even give him a headstone—not after what they thought he'd done."

"I don't…" Jenna hesitated, ducking her head and looking at the floor, scattered with wooden debris and broken glass. But something moved in the corner of her eye, and she and Cole swerved to look at it at the same time.

Robert's spirit was standing beside an untouched shelf with elegant glass doors, filled with old picture frames and old family keepsakes that hadn't been removed from the house out of respect. He stared at Jenna, ignoring Cole completely, and lifted a hand. It took her a moment to realize he was pointing at something in the shelf.

"Get behind me," Cole hissed, but she shrugged out of his grip when he tried to tug her back and rushed forward, ignoring his shout as she drew closer to the spirit and the shelf.

Robert vanished before she got too close, but she had seen what he was pointing at.

It was a picture of the two sisters.

"…Dustin!" she shouted. "Dustin, the sisters weren't cremated, right?"

"What?"

"The two sisters!"

"No," he called. "No, they weren't. Why would that matter?"

Jenna studied the picture for a moment, narrowing her eyes before opening the glass door protecting the shelf, and reached for the frame.

"Jenna!" Cole barked, and her fingers grasped the edges of the old wooden frame the instant the vampire got a handful of her sweatshirt, yanking her back hard as the entire shelf simply tipped forward and crunched to the ground with a heavy crash where she had been standing a second before. "What was going through your head?" he scolded angrily, but she wasn't listening, and he growled at her when he realized this.

"M…Maybe it…" she mumbled, staring at the frame. She flipped the picture over, staring at the clasp on the back keeping the photo in place, and took it off.

"The hell are you going on about?" he demanded, frustrated that the close call didn't seem to be bothering her. But he quieted when he peered over her shoulder and saw a small folded up piece of paper, hidden behind the photograph. "What is that?"

She dropped the frame after snatching up the note, opening it up and reading the small message quickly.

When she looked up, two new spirits appeared in front of her.

The two sisters. Blonde, beautiful, and furious. One of them shrieked and charged at her, fingers outstretched like claws, only for Cole to tug her out of the way again, the two ghosts vanishing.

She slipped from his hold and he cursed, following after her as she rushed for the front of the house towards the front door, and threw it open when she reached it, jumping down the stairs and racing for the truck.

"Jenna! Jenna stop—" Cole crashed into the door as it slammed closed an instant before he would have gone outside after her. He shook his head, blinked, and tugged at the handle. It took him a moment and a few shoulder slams to realize he wasn't breaking it down, vampire or not. "…Luca. Luca we have a problem."

"Does it start with a 'J'?"

"Partially."

"The fuck did Jenna go?" Deacon hissed, and entered the front room with Cole. Luca followed a moment later. And Dustin stopped halfway down the stairs. "The fuck aren't you kicking the door down?"

Cole waved a hand, offering the job up to Deacon. "Try it. Something's wrong."

Deacon threw himself against the door a few times himself, blaming the problem on Cole being weak for a few seconds before realizing that he wasn't breaking through either. "…Fuck?" he blurted, staring at it. "What?"

"Jenna said something about…about the sisters and bolted. I think she's onto someth—"

A plate crunched and destroyed itself on the back of Cole's head.

"…"

"Bitch nailed you hard that time." Deacon grinned.

Cole lifted a hand and brushed the spot where the plate had hit tenderly, frowning. He grunted, feeling blood well up there for a moment. He knew it would heal shut momentarily, but pain was pain, and was as unpleasant as it ever was.

"So Jenna's on her way to try and burn the sister's bodies then?" Dustin said, gripping the railing of the stairs tightly, brow creased. "By herself?"

"I was just thinking that," Luca growled. "That's a lot of fucking digging for one girl."

"With one fucked up arm," Deacon added. "_He_ better as…as hell not…"

They stood in silence for a moment, ignoring the far-away crash of something tipping over from another room. With mixed growls and grunts, the four pushed the thought from their minds; they would have to trust she'd be alright.

"They weren't buried," Dustin shook his head, breaking the darker thought. "Like Alex, they had been entombed in stone coffins. You saw his wasn't the only one like that out there. But that won't be easy either."

"Fuck it, so we're stuck in a house with two stark raving mad bitches until she gets the giant stone lids of the giant stone coffins and burns both of them?"

Dustin made a noise in his throat as he jolted forward, all but rolling down the rest of the stairs, landing in a heap on his back at the bottom of them, dazed for a moment as he stared up at the ceiling, and then at three vampire faces as they leaned over him. "…It would appear so," was all he said before the furniture began to fly again.

.

She sped down the narrow, empty road, squinting over the steering wheel. She'd had to bring the seat forward quite a bit to even reach the damn gas pedal, and felt far too short to drive the truck. But awkward and small as she felt, she was still breaking the speed limit by at least ten miles per hour. Maybe faster. She was going seventy and she couldn't remember what the last speed limit sign had said.

The tires kicked up dirt and rubbed across pavement as she veered into the cemetery's parking area, leaving the truck running, headlights blaring and giving her light as she all but fell out of the driver's side, dragging her backpack along with her as she sprinted through and around tombstones and statues and mausoleums.

When she found the DeLake family plot, she dug a tiny flashlight out of one of the smaller pockets, running to every stone coffin she could find and reading the names. She had seen the sisters names written on the back of the photograph that note had been hidden behind—Josephine and Penelope. And her breath hitched in her throat when she found Penelope's coffin first.

It took her a moment to realize that the lid probably weight twice as much as she did.

She looked at her ruined arm, hidden under the red fabric of her sweatshirt, and held her breath. Conall had taken chunks of muscle out of her. Not enough to hinder the movement of her arm too much, but it was much weaker. And even if had been perfectly healthy…

Jenna looked back at the lid.

...She probably wouldn't have been able to do anything anyway.

But she shook that thought away, gritting her teeth and dropping her backpack and little flashlight before placing both hands on the lid and pushing. The muscles in her ruined arm screamed for a moment at such an unexpectedly hard push to work, but she ignored it, sweat appearing on her forehead as she strained, not wanting to give up. She wasn't going to give up. She couldn't even think about it—not after everything that had happened. The guys—her _friends_—were trapped and she had to—

There was a sudden movement that shifted in the corner of her eye, and she almost chose to ignore it and brush it off. But she glanced up, and stood absolutely still as she looked up at Robert DeLake's face.

He stared at her, expression blank.

"I…" Jenna cleared her throat and swallowed. "I found the note," she managed. "The one that Alex wrote before he killed himself." She swallowed a little thickly before taking in a breath. "I know…I know you didn't do it."

The ghost didn't blink, but he ducked his head a little, brows furrowing.

"Your sisters… They killed you. Didn't they?"

Robert said nothing.

"They killed you for the inheritance and—and Alex walked in and he—he killed them before they could kill him. And he panicked and… wrote that fake suicide note for you all those years ago. And everyone…"

Her eyes softened as she watched his brows drop, genuine hurt flashing through his cold stare.

"Everyone believed it."

Robert looked away, still silent. For a moment his image flickered, as if he were threatening to vanish.

"I don't believe you did anything," she breathed, and he looked at her again, his image strengthening. "I know you didn't do it. Alex was wrong to blame you for what he did. And now…now your sisters—they've been hurting people for years in that house. I can stop this. I can—"

The girl blinked when Robert turned, facing the coffin just like she was, and placed his hands on the edge of the lid. He nodded at her, and even though she knew he needed none of her help with the task, she pushed the lid as hard as she had been before, and the stone thing fell off the coffin as it was shoved aside. She followed him to Josephine's coffin, and they both removed the lid in the same way as before.

He watched her for a moment as she ran back to her backpack, tugging out the salt and lighter fluid.

"Thank you," he said. And he was gone when she looked up.

.

Cole growled as he pushed at the heavy table that was pinning him to the wall, nails digging grooves into the wood as he struggled with it—he wasn't used to his vampiric strength to mean nothing in a fight. It was his trump card. And this ghost had all but torn it in half.

He looked up, snarling when one of the sisters appeared in front of him, nothing but the table separating them. She snarled right back, baring her teeth before she opened her mouth wider than any human should have ever been able to and let out a shriek that seemed to shake the house before surging at him, rushing right through the table as if it weren't there.

Her cold hands closed around his throat, and he couldn't breathe. It took a moment for any real worry to start sinking in—her grip was growing stronger. Tighter. Around his neck. He released the table and grabbed at her wrists, trying to tug her free. She laughed at him.

"D—Dus—!" he began, but his words were cut short in his throat, and not because he was being strangled.

The spirit burst into flames.

Cole let out a gasp as he slumped from wall, shoving the table away easily then, and barely took in the startled cries from upstairs where the second sister had lured and chased the other three.

"Bitch barbecue!" he heard Deacon cheer after his initial yell of surprise, and Cole couldn't help but roll his eyes as he caught his breath, shaking his head and straightening himself up as he heard the other three come down the stairs all together, with no one to push them down to hurry up the trip.

"Is the one down here gone?" Dustin growled. When Cole nodded, the redhead went on. "I'm sorry I left you alone, Cole, she—"

"The bitch totally locked him in a closet," Deacon grinned. "It was beautiful."

Dustin shot him a withering glare before looking over his shoulder and at the front door. He moved over to it, hesitating before trying the doorknob, and let out a breath when it swung open easily. "We're out," he said with a grin. "She did it." He stepped onto the porch and looked around.

"Atta girrrl," Deacon grinned as the three others filed out of the debris-scattered house after him. "Stronger than she looks," he smirked before his eyes slid over to Dustin. "…Better keep that in mind, Dustin. She might lock you in a closet."

"Ugh," Dustin reached up and rubbed his temples, but he moved to the steps and sat down without a word, stretching his legs out in front of him. The others were silent as they followed his example at first, sighing and groaning as sore muscles were eased out of their previous tenseness. They all had bruises and nicks and cuts, but as fast as vampires healed, those little pains were just as unpleasant as they had been when the four were human.

When Jenna drove back up to the old estate some time later, they were almost dozing, and Luca had to kick Deacon to snap him out of his half-awake trance.

Jenna gave them a little wave after she'd parked. The girl climbed out of the truck, and left it running as she approached them on the porch. When Deacon stood and gave her a pat on the back he almost knocked her over, the vampire managed to toss an apology at her before Luca barreled down on him and began his scolding.

She wound around the others, and only stopped when she reached the door, pushing it open a bit farther, broken glass and pieces of wood scraping along as she did. "They made a mess," she said slowly as she peered around, and Cole snorted over her shoulder.

"You could say that. The current owners won't be so happy when they find the place like this. ...Whenever they feel like checking up on it."

Jenna paused before stuffing a hand in one of her pockets, pulling out the old, wrinkled note that Alex had written, confessing what had really happened on the day his three siblings were killed. She stepped into the house, careful of broken glass, Cole trailing after her quietly while the others stayed outside. She rooted through some debris in the room with the tipped-over shelf, finding the picture frame that held the photo of the sisters. She scooped it up and put it back together, tucking the note back inside with the photo, but placing it on the outside facing the glass instead of behind it. When that was fixed she placed it on the still-standing table shoved into a corner.

"When they clean this place up, they should find it. Robert's name should be cleared, if they do," she mumbled.

Cole pushed his hands into his pockets, eyes flicking from the frame to the girl. "I hope so," he said. He watched her nod, leaving it at that, and followed her back outside. Deacon had finished being scolded, and the group moved for the truck, their work in the estate done.

Jenna jogged ahead of them, and she hopped into the back seat when she reached the truck before anyone else could beat her to it, settling herself in the middle.

"Girl, get out of there," Cole said, and she leaned back, making herself comfortable in response.

"Nope," she grinned, and even went as far as to cross her arms behind her head after buckling herself in, her backpack on her lap while she closed her eyes and pretended to doze off, looking perfectly cozy in her spot.

The vampires shared an eyeroll before climbing into their own seats, Dustin taking the wheel, Luca getting shotgun, and Cole and Deacon sliding into the truck on either side of her. There was a chorus of car doors slamming shut, and Dustin started the engine, saying something about sunrise coming in only a little over an hour.

"Well," Deacon began after they pulled onto the street. "That wasn't so tough."

Jenna smiled, eyes still closed. She took her arms away from her head and folded them on top of her backpack, fingers slipping around one of the buckles there. "No, it wasn't so bad," she agreed. Her eyes opened slowly, surprised at how heavy they were. "I'll just have to start looking for a new job for us," she said.

Luca smirked before glancing back at her in the rear view mirror for a moment. "Washington," he began. "I was looking into a string of murders there. I don't know if you're interested—Hold on though, I have to ask again. But werewolves are real, right?" he asked. "Because I think I might have found one."

Deacon blinked when he saw the girl beside him stiffen, her fingers clenching into the buckles on her backpack to the point where her knuckles were deathly white. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. He looked at Cole, who seemed to have noticed the same reaction, brow furrowing as he watched her.

Deacon was quick to move to her rescue, snorting and shaking his head. "Let's not jump from ghosts to werewolves just yet, Luca. Werewolves are probably considered Big League, and we're still green. Let's do something else before Washington. Did you do anymore research on anything?" he asked. But Luca's answer went right over his head. Deacon's attention had shifted back to Jenna, who was looking down at her backpack, silent.

She looked up at him for a second, their eyes meeting before she yanked her gaze away, clearing her throat.

"So what do you think?" Luca finished, turning to look at them.

Jenna looked back up, blinking. "S…sorry, I think I zoned for a second. Getting tired—could you repeat that, please?"

Luca paused before he grinned and shook his head. "I'll tell you later. You look like you're about to fall asleep. Get some rest—I need to double check the research I did anyway. Plus, I still don't know exactly what I'm looking for. I could probably use a refresher course on your little 'hunting' lesson on the internet."

"You know as much as I do now," she said slowly, eyes half open as she looked at him. She really was tired. "You guys are hunters now. It's official." Her eyes slipped closed but she smiled. "Totally officially good guys."

"What, we weren't before?" Deacon smirked.

"Well, yeah," she yawned. "But now you've got points to prove it."

"Ah," Deacon smiled a bit, watching her head duck a bit as she relaxed. "…That makes sense," he said quietly. For a moment he glanced up at Cole, who looked up at him at the same moment. Concern and curiosity bubbled up above everything else as they looked back down at her. The sort of uneasiness and fear they sensed from her when the werewolf was mentioned was the sort only felt from experience. And a bad one, at that.

Cole looked away from her after a moment, rubbing his neck absently while his jaw tensed. "Doesn't matter right now," he said, voice so soft that despite Jenna being right beside him, Deacon knew she couldn't hear.

He shrugged, playing it off. She never did explain how she got into the 'hunting' business exactly. They had asked a couple of times, but she always became so uncomfortable when certain details were asked for that they would always just drop it.

But Deacon shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He ignored the voice in his head that told him a kid like her shouldn't be out traveling with four guys—vampires nonetheless—hunting ghosts and goblins or whatever else was out there. He was actually afraid to ask where her damn family was. Truth be told, he'd become rather attached. They all had, really. A month full of rescues and near-deaths and hospitals and hotel rooms would do that to anyone.

So for the moment, Deacon pushed aside the negative thoughts and questions about why she was doing what she was doing, closing his eyes and replaying the image of the ghostly blonde woman locking Dustin in the closet back at the house until a smile spread across his face.

Ten minutes into the drive Jenna had fallen asleep leaning on Deacon's arm. Fifteen minutes in Deacon had dozed off as well; his head tilted just enough to rest on the top of her own.

Luca took a picture with Dustin's phone.


	5. Call from hell with love

**AN:** Big thanks to my buddy Phiesy for being an awesome pal and reading my stuff over and giving me super-advice and being my personal awesome cheerleader, and also to JimmyDANj2 for giving me a big confidence boost as well :3 Loved getting your review. Got all warm and fuzzy. I try to be original and stick out from the rest when it comes to writing xD Pointing out the story as such made my day, really. And as for Deacon and Jenna…haha, yes, I'm liking them and their clashing personalities more and more as my mind goes through the story… We'll see what happens. :3 Also, this chapter makes me sad :C

Chapter 5

_Call from hell with love_

...

..

.

"Montana?" Deacon looked up and frowned. "I don't want to go to Montana."

"Why not," Dustin said absently, tone suggesting he was merely asking to try placate the other man with questions to keep him from whining. "You've never been to Montana."

"Yeah and I don't want to go to Montana."

"That's an incredible reason for us to ignore this job. Please, give us another good one," Luca called, and Deacon glared at him over his shoulder, eyes narrowing as the doctor grinned, toothbrush sticking out of the corner of his mouth before he disappeared back into the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.

It was 'morning' now, for them. The sun had set and they had started their day.

And Jenna, usually the first one up to get herself ready, was still curled up on her side, dead asleep. Dustin had tried shaking her awake earlier, but the girl merely rolled over away from him. He'd left her alone since then.

"She still asleep?" Cole asked as he moved across the room, dragging one hand through his shower-damp hair. He sat at the foot of the other bed and pulled on his boots, looking over at her all cocooned up in the scratchy red blanket to the point where only the top of her head was showing.

"Mm-hm," was all Dustin said. "I'll wake her up in a moment—Deacon." The younger vampire's name left the eldest's in a hiss-like warning, but the dark haired man all but tossed himself at the foot of her bed, making the girl yelp as she bounced into the air after the impact, struggling with the blankets for a moment as she awoke and found herself hopelessly tangled in them. "Deacon, you idiot," scolded Dustin.

"Rise and shine!"

Jenna mumbled something into the blanket that none of them could have made out of they tried. After another moment of struggling, her face popped out of the heap of blankets and she glared at Deacon, eyes narrowed.

"Well. Morning, there," Deacon grinned, ignoring Dustin as he got up and smacked him over the head as he walked past. "Everyone else is just about done in there. Your turn."

Jenna blinked, hesitating before looking around at the others. "Did you all get up early?" she asked.

Deacon shook his head. "Naw, you slept in is all."

"Oh." She blinked again. "Sorry."

"Shit, don't worry about it," the vampire laughed. "It's no big deal. We each take like two seconds in there anyway. Except Dustin," he added, and his eyes shifted towards the bathroom without turning his head. "Who is a GIRL."

Dustin didn't respond.

She pushed at the blankets wrapped around her until her arms were loose and she let out a tired sigh, rubbing at her eyes. "Are you sure we aren't all up early?"

"Didn't sleep very well last night, huh?" Deacon leaned back a bit, resting his weight on his hands pressed behind him into the mattress. "Your tossin' and turnin' woke me up a couple times."

"No, I slept," she mumbled. "I didn't wake up once. It just…doesn't feel like it."

"…" Deacon frowned for a second before looking back at Cole, who had finished with his boots and was staring absently at the wall in front of him, lost in thought. "Bad dreams, then?"

"I don't know. Can't remember," she shrugged, tone soft, and Deacon looked at her again, as if expecting her to change her answer. "…Really," she added, glancing at him for a moment. "It's fuzzy. Probably about something stupid." She looked away again and Deacon let out a sigh.

"How do you feel about us going to Montana?" he asked finally.

"Montana?" She held her breath for a moment, and Deacon caught the sound.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," he said, remembering her reaction at the mention of the werewolf in Washington. And Montana was just about right next door—Luca would try and press for the job again. He knew it. "Really, it's up to you. You can shoot the idea down—"

"What's in Montana?" she asked.

"Poltergeist!" Luca's head popped out of the bathroom, his grin wide. "I thought about what Deacon said—we are still green I guess. This one hasn't killed anyone yet, but it's knocked a few people down the stairs, tossed pots and pans around hard enough to give a few people concussions, and tried to hit somebody with a Grand Piano."

"How in the fuck," Deacon growled, "is a Grand Piano tossing bastard supposed to be an easy job?"

"Ah, shut up Deacon. I'd love to see you get hit with one anyway. Maybe that's my real motivation for suggesting the idea."

"Oh, you're a hilarious little—"

"Sounds fine," Jenna said, raising her voice to break into the banter. "It does. It sounds fine," she repeated. "Montana's okay." She glanced at Deacon after watching a grin spread across Luca's face again, the vampire frowning even deeper, looking at her. "…What?"

"Well I don't think Montana's fine," Deacon huffed.

"Wuss," Luca said, and disappeared again the same instant Deacon flipped him a hand gesture that showed him what he thought of being called such a thing.

Blanket still wrapped tight around her, she bent down and grabbed her backpack from the floor beside her bed, making sure she had a clean change of clothes inside before hugging the backpack to her chest as she stood. "Really, Montana is okay," she smiled, eyes still tired. "It'll take us a couple of days to get there though."

Deacon grunted and Cole looked away from the wall.

"When we get in the truck, you can have the—"

"Back seat again? Aw, thanks," Jenna grinned and Cole snorted, laughing under his breath. "But really…poltergeist huh? So…pretty much the same idea as the last job."

"I guess," Cole shrugged. "Spirit with a nasty temper throwing stuff and people around."

"Fun," Jenna smiled, lifting an arm and placing the back of her wrist over her mouth as she yawned. "We'll go over how to approach it on the way there. We've got a couple days to do extra research."

"Unless Luca already did everything," Deacon added.

"Don't sound so disappointed," Cole grinned. "As if you would have done any of the research anyway."

Deacon scoffed, rolling his eyes and Jenna walked past.

"I'll hurry so we can go soon," she said, and laughed as she stepped into the bathroom after grabbing a towel, shooing Dustin and Luca out as soon as they were finished brushing their teeth.

She let the water run for a few moments, and rolled her eyes when she heard Luca and Deacon start to argue again through the walls, smiling as she began to ready herself for her own quick shower. And as always, she found herself looking her left arm over when she tugged her shirt over her head, that smile slipping a bit as she did. It didn't bother her as much anymore, to be honest. She was used to the way it looked now, and certain weaknesses and limits her arm now had she was growing accustomed to as well. She brushed a strand of hair out of her face and was glad that she hadn't grown up as the sort of girl to be very bothered by one's appearance. Her parents had always taught her that the important things weren't about…

The girl hesitated a moment, thinking back to the restless dreams that had sucked away her energy and a good night's rest. She was still tired, despite having slept through the night. She honestly couldn't remember much of those dreams, but…she knew who they were about.

An image pressed itself against the front of her mind of a hospital room and soft, beeping machines, and she almost winced, pushing it away before easing the shower curtains aside a bit, reaching a hand in to test the water. But something gave a high, cheerful beep from her backpack and she jumped, gasping at the sound.

Her eyes narrowed, confused, as she looked down at the bag. Crouching down, she fished her cell phone out of it, and stared at the lit up screen, blinking and confused.

She flipped the phone open and her brows lifted at the sight of the unknown number. The phone vibrated in her hand, the call waiting, and she glanced at the closed bathroom door before hitting the green button and pressing the phone lightly to her ear.

The voice on the other end cut her off before she could even say "hello".

"_I'll make this part quick, Jenna,_" the rough, familiar voice said. "_I'd be an idiot if I didn't expect your little vampire posse to be close by. If you aren't alone, fix that. Right now._"

Her voice was a soft whisper when she replied, glancing at the door again, the sound of the water from the shower masking her voice from the outside. "I am."

"_Oh, excellent._" Conall was grinning. She could hear it. "_I'm going to ask you to do something. And don't say anything—not another word. I know those weak little bloodsuckers have better hearing that most. So listen, and listen only. I'm going to make you a deal._"

She let out a breath, confused, but he growled at her to keep quiet before she could say anything.

"_It's a good one. You'll appreciate the outcome. But Jenna? …Girl. You've…ha, you've really made me angry._"

Jenna closed her eyes, waiting for more.

"_So much so, that instead of just hunting you down like the dog I am, I decided to use the more logical, more devious human side of myself and I did a little research on you, Miss Chaunce._" There was a ruffled noise from the phone, as if he were moving around and making himself comfortable. "_How's your father doing, by the way?_"

Her eyes lifted from the floor at the wall, blood going cold despite the hot steam pouring from the shower.

"_Heard he still hasn't recovered completely from that werewolf attack last year. Tsk._" The shifter clicked his tongue, sympathy coating his voice like sugar. "_It's a damn shame. Left his high school daughter to the world, all alone... Anyway, long, traumatizing story short, I know where he is._"

"Don't—"

"_I told you to be quiet,_" the man snapped, and Jenna closed her mouth. "_Now if you don't want me finishing what that damned werewolf couldn't, I want you to show up at the address I'm going to text you, by yourself. If I even catch a _glimpse_ of those vampires anywhere nearby, I'm ditching and killing your father in his hospital bed. Am I clear?_"

She nodded numbly against the phone.

"_I'll take your silence as a definite yes. And I know you'll do it. You're just the perfect little hero, aren't you? You ran off to fight monsters like the one that wrecked your family all by yourself. Didn't know which way you were going when you started, too. But you have guts. If nothing else, you're a brave little thing. Hell, you shoved your arm down a wolf's throat to keep four strangers from being torn to bits. That's cute. How's that arm doing by the way?_" Conall laughed. "_Nice and pretty? I'm going to take a look at it when you show up._"

She heard him move again, the man letting out a long breath, like a sigh.

"_If you're frightened, that's completely understandable. But it's adorable that I know you're more worried for your father than you are about yourself. _Jesus_, I can't get over what a selfless little do-gooder you are. People like you are rare, you know. It's refreshing, actually. A lot of people I know would have told me to just eat their father and to leave them alone. Disgusting, right? Or maybe I just hang around the wrong crowd._"

She heard a light tapping noise, as if he were drumming his fingers on something.

"_Wrong crowd or not though, I get what I want. And I've given you the terms of the deal. I'm going to be generous though, because I'm pretty sure that little squadron of leeches is going to give you a hard time about this. Not that you'll tell them what's really going on, of course. But you'll need to come up with a good excuse for them to leave you alone. Those vampires…_" Conall scoffed, irritated. "_Almost as good at tracking as I am. And my ego isn't inflated in the least._"

He paused for a moment. "_You have three days. Nice little cushion to get used to the idea that these are going to be the last days of your happy, monster-fighting life. I'll send you the address after I hang up. Do you understand?_"

"Y…" her voice was shaking, and she had to swallow to get it under control. "Yes," she breathed.

"_Good._"

"…Please," she added, and then quickly, "don't hurt him."

Conall was quiet for a few long seconds, and his voice was low when he answered. "_If you do what I said, I won't lay a hand on your father._"

The line went dead.

.

"Hey," Dustin called, knocking on the door with the back of his hand. "You've been in the shower over forty minutes now." Usually she was in and out in fifteen. "Everything okay?"

"…I'll be out in a second. Just a second," Jenna's voice came slowly, and Dustin's eyes narrowed when it cracked.

He leaned away from the door and looked at Cole, the only one left in the room besides himself, Luca and Deacon having already gone to the truck, where they were no doubt fighting over a good radio station.

"Earlier she said she'd had a dream that bothered her," Cole said quietly. "She said she didn't remember most of it. I'm not so sure," he shrugged though, sighing. "Dustin…" he was quiet a moment, and Dustin moved away from the door, closer to him. "I don't want Luca suggesting that werewolf hunt again. Or any…any werewolf at all." His voice had dropped even more, making sure that Jenna would not hear him, even if the water had not been still running.

"Why not?" Dustin tilted his head a bit. "I thought you were looking forward to finding one."

"It…well I was, but…when Luca brought it up the other day…" Cole looked at the bathroom door. "Deacon noticed it too, but she… froze. And there was fear in her. The sort that meant she'd dealt with it before. From experience. We're all curious about why she's off on her own doing this, and I think she told Deacon and I when Luca brought up the werewolf."

"…You think she's run into one before." Dustin blinked.

"I think she's run into one before," Cole repeated. "Deacon doesn't want to go to Montana because he knows Luca'll bring the werewolf up again, since we'd be so close." Cole's eyes snapped up to him. "Tell him to drop it and keep it dropped."

Dustin was silent for a while, eyes shifting to the door that lead outside for a few moments, but turned his head, straightening when Jenna finally came out of the bathroom, backpack slung over one shoulder, her hair ruffled damp and drawn back into a thin ponytail like it usually was. "There you are," he said, voice quieter than it should have been.

"Sorry. I think I zoned out in there," she mumbled.

Cole stood, letting her reach the door first. She hadn't looked at either of them; she kept her eyes to the floor, shoulders hunched.

"Hey," Dustin reached out before she touched the doorknob, fingers catching the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "Hold on, wait a moment."

The girl stopped, glancing at him for a second before simply standing still, lifting a hand to grip the strap over her shoulder tightly.

"Cole? Give us a minute, will you?"

The black haired man seemed to almost glare at him for a second before he let out a breath and left the hotel room, walking towards the truck after closing the door carefully behind him.

"…Jenna," Dustin began, and released her sleeve. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes," she said, a bit too quickly.

"Nightmares, right?" he asked softly, and she looked at him then. Her eyes were hard, and he frowned because of it, not used to an expression like that from her. "It's okay," he went on. "I'm not trying to pry. I'm really not—I just want to know if you're alright. If you want to talk about anything, I'm right here. We can talk now if you want. The others can wait." He offered her a smile that slipped away when she didn't return it.

"I'm okay," she answered after a few seconds pause. She nodded as well, looking back down at the floor. "It was a stupid dream. It was… Spiders," she lied. "Old…childhood fear." She closed her eyes at the deep sigh the redhead let out.

"Jenna…You aren't very good at lying," Dustin said quietly. "But it's alright. If you don't want to talk about it, don't worry—"

"I don't want to go to Montana," she cut in, and Dustin blinked. "I don't."

"Ah…okay," he said, watching her. "Where do you want to go then?" He shook his head when she gave him a questioning look. "I know you've got a good enough reason. Just tell me where you want to go instead."

Relief seemed to flood the girl's face for a moment before it left just as quickly, and she looked at the door before taking in a slow breath. "Maryland."

"Maryland?" Dustin repeated.

"There's been signs of a demon there," she said easily, and looked at the floor again. "It'll hurt someone—kill them—if we don't stop it. I think it's more important than a poltergeist right now."

Dustin looked from her to the door before his eyes swept over the room one more time. "…Alright then. Maryland it is." He put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle shake, smiling a bit before reaching out to open the door. "But Jenna, really. If you want to talk about anything…"

"I know," she finished, a tiny smile crossing her face as he opened the door slowly. "You're here."

Dustin smirked, pushing at her back playfully as she headed for the truck, making her let out a short laugh as they reached the vehicle.

Jenna opened the side door and Deacon grinned at her from the middle seat, smirking. "You get the window this time, kid," he grinned. "So enjoy it, dammit."

She shook her head and slid in, closing the door behind her and fiddling with her seatbelt until it was fastened while Dustin got in himself and started the engine. "Thank you for the window seat," she said.

"Pft. Don't go thankin' me for shit," he waved a hand dismissively, grinning. "And by the way, you've beaten Dustin on his longest girly shower record."

"Change in plans," Dustin said, ignoring Deacon's comment completely. "We aren't going to Montana," he said.

"What?" Luca stared at him. "Well why not?"

"Fucking good," Deacon huffed, crossing his arms. "But yeah, what's up now?"

"Going after something a bit better than a poltergeist," Dustin shrugged. "There's a demon in Maryland. We're going to stop it."

"A demon?" the other three vampires said at the same time. Deacon looked at Jenna, who was staring out the window absently.

"Really, a demon?" he blinked. "And that's what Jenna wants to do? Jenna wants to go demon hunting?"

"She was the one who suggested it," Dustin answered, and drove out of the parking lot silently. "So Maryland it is."

Jenna looked at Deacon over her shoulder a moment, eyes holding something he could almost recognize until she looked back out the window. "I need to stop it from hurting anyone," she said, tone soft but flat.

Deacon snorted, arching a brow before looking back at Dustin, as if expecting some added, left out piece of information, but when he got none the man simply shrugged, reaching up to run a hand through his short black hair, fingers digging into his scalp agitatedly. "Yeah then," he shrugged. "Maryland it is."

He was quiet for a few minutes, the radio as silent as the rest of the truck, before he cleared his throat. "But," he began. "I'm hungry."

A chorus of agreements echoed through the car.

.

Ironic as it was, she was getting used to the night life now. Really, it took a few days to get her new sleeping schedule on track, and even more to stop feeling sleepy when she was awake anyway. She'd catch only glimpses of the sun, and would wonder if she was eventually going to become as pale as the four vampires she all but lived with. It would make sense, wouldn't it?

Jenna shifted in the back of the truck, reaching up and rubbing a hand over her scarred arm, brushing against her sweatshirt and closing her eyes.

Like her complexion really mattered anymore.

Looking around, listening to nothing but the musical chirp of the crickets outside the silent truck, she made sure the guys weren't anywhere near the vehicle. The four of them were out hunting, and she imagined them trying to catch themselves a bear for dinner. She knew they'd pulled it off before—Deacon had told her once that bear tasted a lot better than deer.

But the clicking forest around the truck was empty of vampires, and so was the dirt trail leading into the clearing. So with a small, shaking sigh she dug through her backpack on her lap and pulled out her cell phone.

Her thumb did the scrolling by memory, opening up her contact list and stopping over the one she was looking for. 'Hospital' was all it said, and she stared at it for a moment. She hadn't called…in a long time. Funny, how after a call from Conall she was going to fix that.

Turning her head, she looked through the dark, tinted windows one more time, building up her courage as she double checked. When she was again sure that she was alone, her thumb pressed the green 'call' button, and she lifted the phone to her ear.

It rang four times before she began to think that calling the place at eleven at night wasn't such a great idea—

When somebody picked the line up Jenna actually jumped, biting her tongue and holding her breath until the nurse finished introducing the hospital and asking what she needed.

"I'm…I need to know about any changes in a patient," she said softly. "T-Troy Chaunce."

There was a sound of ruffling papers and a few clicks of a mouse. "And who is this?" she asked.

"His daughter," was all she said, and remained quiet as the woman searched her files. It took a few minutes, which stretched like hours in Jenna's ears. When the woman started speaking again, she held her breath as if bracing herself.

"I'm sorry," she began, and Jenna felt her heart sink into her toes and her skin go cold. "But Troy Chaunce was moved from hospital to an around the clock care nursing home last week. Apple Haven Home, it's called."

Jenna felt a surge of relief at the averted terrible news, but blinked, closing her eyes and ducking her head a bit, her fingers clenching around the phone before she said anything in response. "…So is…is he still in his coma, then?"

"Yes." There were a few more audible clicks from the woman's computer. "But he was stable enough to be moved. So that's a good thing." The woman paused, listening for some sort of reply. "I'm sorry, what was your name again, honey?"

Something snapped loudly outside of the truck, and Jenna hissed in a breath. "Nothing, I have to go," she said, and snapped the phone closed, stuffing it back in her backpack an instant before Dustin opened up the driver's side door and slid into the seat, breathing out a sigh as he did so. Jenna's nose wrinkled at the smell of blood—hunting was never clean, after all.

"A bear and a buck," the redhead reported before she could ask. "Both pretty big ones too." The man smiled and she could hear it in his voice. "You weren't too bored out here waiting were you?"

"No—" she sniffed and her voice caught, blinking. It took her a second to realize she was on the verge of tears and sunk a bit lower in her seat.

Dustin was too euphoric to hear the catch in her voice. Hunting seemed to give the guys a sort of temporary mood boost. A big one. She remembered the first time she waited for them while they went hunting, and for the next couple of hours afterwards Deacon hadn't insulted Luca once.

"Good, good," Dustin nodded. "The others will be along in a second—ah, there's Luca," he chimed, and a few moments later, Luca took his spot in the passenger's front seat, and Dustin started the truck's engine.

"I don't know what Deacon is talking about," the doctor said as he closed his door. "Deer? It's way better than any bear."

"I don't know, I kind of like bear," Dustin replied.

"To each his own," Luca hummed, and turned on the radio, smiling wide as the happy pop song caught itself halfway through, and Luca began to hum along with it, leaning back in his seat.

Jenna closed her eyes, trying to focus on the song. She recognized it easily enough, and tried to play a simple game in her head to recite the next line of lyrics before they were sung. She found it difficult, and her brows knit together, hugging her backpack to her chest and touching her nose to the top strap as she tried to narrow her focus even more. Song, song, think of the song…

The truck shook as Cole and Deacon got into the truck at the same time, slamming their doors in tune and laughing at their perfect timing.

"Hell yeah," Deacon grinned. "Fuckin' best bear ever. That was like the Rocky Road of bears."

Cole grinned and leaned against the door. "Let's not get too carried away,"

"Oh come on. Blood's blood. It's all good shit," Deacon snorted and leaned forward over Jenna to shove at Dustin's shoulder playfully. "Let's get a move on, then, Captain," he said. "We're burnin' moonlight. Getting' to the next town's gonna suck up the rest of the night, so let's get going."

"Yes, yes," Dustin shook his head and put the truck in reverse, swiveling the vehicle around until the front faced the dirt trail they'd used to puncture through the forest about a mile. The pop song echoed throughout the car cheerfully, and not once did Deacon demand it to be turned down, shut off, switched to something else, burned at the stake, or all of the above.

"It'll take us two more nights I'm guessing to reach Maryland," Dustin said. "Including lunch and dinner stops for you, Jenna."

"Yeah, but only because you're pretty much the most reckless driver in the world," Deacon grinned and Dustin just shook his head again.

"Speaking of lunch," Luca cut in. "It's about that time for you, Jenna. Want us to stop at the next McDonalds and grab you something? You liked that…salad…stuff when we went there last time."

"Damn, salad. I remember salad," Deacon growled. "Never liked the shit. Nobody likes salad except crazy people." He grinned down at the girl next to him. "Looks like you're one of the crazy ones."

Jenna said nothing.

"…Jenna? You asleep back there?" Luca turned and looked at her, brow arched. The girl was still clutching her backpack, brows still furrowed and her nose still wrinkled in concentration.

"Her heart's beating too fast for that," Cole muttered. "Are you sick?"

"I can't hear a damn thing over this shit," Deacon exclaimed, and let out a sarcastic "Thank you," when Luca pushed his thumb into a button and turned the radio off completely.

Jenna's heart jumped when the music stopped. How was she supposed to focus on the stupid song if there wasn't…

Forcing back the nurse's voice as the call pushed itself back into the front of her mind, she held her breath, closing her eyes even tighter as if doing so would ward off both the call and the new attention she was getting from the others. She would just talk to them if she could. Tell them there was nothing wrong and that yes, she was a bit hungry and a salad sounded wonderful.

But she felt her chest heave, sucking in air in a great gulp against her will, and the noise that rushed out of her sounded remarkably like a sob.

Conall's voice added itself into the terrible mix. Her fingers dug into her backpack while Dustin's head tilted to glance back at her from the rear view mirror.

"Whoa whoa whoa," Deacon blinked. "What was that?"

Jenna let out another noise when the memory of her father come back to her, the walls she'd kept so half-heartedly up to block the painful break she felt whenever she thought of him cracking and crumbling. What would the story be like now? It was one thing if he woke up and found that his daughter was in another state; reachable and more than willing to come back home. It was a completely different ending if he woke up and was told she'd been murdered. God, he'd be all alone…

"Jenna," Dustin stopped the car and twisted to look at her better. "Jenna, what—damn it," he growled.

"She's crying," Cole muttered. "Jenna, tell us what's wrong."

"Deep breaths, Jenna," Luca said. "You're okay."

"Fucking hell, kid, don't…Jenna come on, look at us."

Something too dull to be agony and too sharp to be misery stung through her chest and forced another hitching breath to leave her. She ignored the others and their voices, their concern, the truck, and the entire damned rest of the world as she doubled over and simply rested her head on her backpack and knees, and tried to focused on the single thought that if nothing else, her father and her friends would be alive when everything was said and done.

.

Conall leaned back in dusty old couch lazily, grinning as he swirled a small glass of clear liquid in his hand, feet perched up on a cracked, rotting coffee table beside a bottle of vodka. In his other hand he held a cell phone, and his thumbs blurred over the touch screen before he held the device to his ear, closing his eyes as he took a drink of the alcohol as he listened to the phone ring.

"Ah…" When the line picked up the man who answered seem to hesitate, as if confused. "Who is this?"

"_That part's not really important here, Dean Winchester,_" Conall said in his rough, ragged voice, grinning wide as he continued to swirl the drink in his other hand. "_Everyone's got their own network and mine happens to be extremely reliable, and very very big, if you know what I mean._"

"Yeah, alright," Dean growled from the other line. "So what?"

"_I know you and your brother like to think of yourselves as heroes. And you'd be absolutely right—In my opinion you're damn good at what you do. Not without your screw ups and flaws, but that's everybody._" Conall let out a soft laugh. "_But let's say I wanted to give you a piece of information. Concerning a group of vampires._"

"Vampires?"

"_Four, to be precise. They've been keeping a girl with them. Like a pet, if you will. Keeping her alive to feed off of her without letting her die, though I very sincerely suspect she'd like to at this point._"

"…And?" Dean pressed when the shifter was silent for a few moments, waiting for Dean to tug at the bait.

"_And,_" Conall went on. "_If I were to give you a piece of information like that, what would you do with it?_"

"What would I…? I'd hunt the bastards down and kill 'em."

"_Wonderful. I really hoped you would have said that._"

"And what about you?" Dean grunted into the phone. "You're just the good Samaritan right? I'm sorry but that creepy ass tone you've had throughout this whole thing is making me seriously doubt that."

"_Ouch,_" Conall took another drink, emptying the glass before setting it down on the table with a light tap. "_That hurts. But no, you're right. There's something in it for me, but it wouldn't be what you might expect. I'm not much of a fighter, but I know the girl personally. Her father is my boss, you see. Rescuing her will earn me some Brownie points._" The lie left him as easily as the vodka had left its bottle.

"Knew it," Dean chimed.

"_Yes, clever boy, but all I need you and your brother to do is kill the vampires. Which you should be able to do easily. They're a pack of idiots, from what I hear._"

There were muffled voices, as if Dean was talking to someone else in the room with his hand covering the mouth piece of his own phone.

Conall took the time to pour himself another glass of vodka.

"Alright, time and place. And if it's a trap…" he left the threat hanging in the air, and Conall laughed again.

"_Please. Like I said, I'm not much of a fighter. I get the promotion of a lifetime, and you get four more vampire kills under your belts. Oh, along with rescuing a blood slave. So everybody wins. State wise, the place is Maryland. But I'll call you when I'm sure about the specifics. Nice doing business with you._"

Conall hung up, leaned back into the old cushions of the couch, and drank back another gulp of his alcohol, a grin curling up the corners of his mouth.


	6. Wishes to dust and hope hidden in truth

**AN:**Hey all you happy people. Sorry for the really late update. My computer died like a day after the last chapter update. Like seriously, I turned it on and it said it couldn't find the operating system. Dammit. So, I bought a new awesome one that can actually handle games too! (my old one was a wimpy netbook that couldn't even handle Minecraft. Or Youtube.) But since it's a custom built thing it took forever to ship out. Pshaw. And THEN I got addicted to Lord of the Rings Online. (If any of you play it as well, send me a note/pm/email or whatever :3 ) But I've managed this, and now that I'm back in the groove, the updates'll come normally again, haha.

ALSO. I just got some absolutely adorable, amazing art of the group 83 You guys have to check this out. She got them all down awesome, and in adorable chibi form too!

**http:/ /tinyurl. com/3oyws5y**

(Just remove the spaces, and you're gold.) LOOK AT HOW AWESOME. Also, I hadn't given them eye colors until I gave the (awesome) artist the descriptions, so here's a little look at that too if you're interested.. ...Personally though and not to play favorites haha, but, I think Dustin is the cutest I: Lololol.  
>From left to right, in case you dunno who's who on your own, they are Deacon, Luca, Jenna, Dustin and Cole. Heeeee.<p>

Chapter 6

_Wishes to dust and hope hidden in truth_

...

..

.

No amount of coaxing, urging, pleading or cursing pulled the girl from the pocket of her mind she'd closed herself into. Even when Deacon flattened a hand over her back and tried to rub some life back into her, she didn't respond. When a few minutes turned into many more, the vampires realized that all they could really do at that point was just sit back and watch, the walls she threw up too strong for any of them to break through and too tall to climb over. And one by one, they each realized, as frustrating and painful as it was, that she simply blocked them out. And there was nothing they could do about it.

"Just start...driving, Dustin," Luca said after a long stretch of utter silence. The girl had stopped sobbing a while ago, though her breaths still came in shaky and went out too fast. Her face was hidden but they all knew she was still crying. "We're wasting the night. We need to get to our next stop or we'll be stranded in the truck."

"Right. Yeah." Dustin turned, facing the steering wheel again, lifting his hands to grip it tightly. He didn't say another word as he started the engine again and finished the short trek through the woods, pulling onto the empty, dark road smoothly.

Deacon dragged a hand through his messy hair, closing his eyes tightly for a moment before letting out a breath and shifting his eyes to the window as the trees on the side of the road shot by. His other hand was still pressed over Jenna's back. "Luca," he called. "Hey, why don't you turn on the radio for a bit."

With an audible click, a soft, classic rock station came to life through the speakers, and Deacon didn't bother to mutter out a thank you.

The drive was long and silent save for the music, and hours stretched down a road surrounded by forest with no streetlights. Only when they passed a sign telling them that their destination was a mere thirty miles ahead did anyone break that silence.

"We're close now," Dustin said, reaching out and turning the radio down to the point where they would have needed to press an ear to the speakers to understand any of the lyrics. "...Jenna? How is she doing?"

"Same," Deacon said after a minute, and his fingers twitched over he back, his hand still there like some guardian gargoyle who refused to give up its post. But he shook her gently then, tilting his head a bit, eyes falling on he hair.

"Did you hear Dustin, Jenna?" Cole said softly from her other side. "We're-"

When she moved to sit up, Deacon felt it first, the muscles in her back tensing before he pulled his hand back. She lifted slowly, and Luca turned his head a bit the same instant Dustin looked in the rear view mirror at her. There was a zipper mark on her forehead from resting on her backpack and her eyes were red rimmed and glassy when she opened them. "I heard," she said. Her voice sounded dry.

Deacon and Cole glanced at each other.

"You hungry? Kid?" Deacon frowned a bit when she turned her head a little in his direction, as if she wanted to look at him, but kept her eyes down.

"A little."

"We can stop at a McDonalds before we check in. Okay? We'll go through the drive through. Do you know what you want?" Dustin looked back at her for a moment. "Salad, right? What about one of those sweet tea things? You want one of those too?"

Jenna nodded, and the truck drove on in silence. Street lights began popping up on the road, throwing shadows through the darkly tinted windows that bounced around the seats and across grim, tired faces. The truck cut through rock outcroppings in wide, curving turns, passing a few small, quaint little houses first, then a gas station and supermarket. Little stores sprouted up between houses, and beside a second gas station as they went in further was the McDonalds.

Dustin drove through and ordered what she wanted, paying without a word and hushing her when she tried to hand up her own cash, smiling at her when he handed the bag and drink back.

"Now..." Deacon cleared his throat as Dustin looked for a moderately comfortable looking hotel. "Now, start eating. You might feel better if you have something in your damn stomach. C'mon now," he nudged her with an elbow, brows furrowed.

"I'll eat in the hotel room, since we're almost there anyway," she mumbled, and Deacon frowned deeper and ran a hand through his hair, glaring out the window. He really, honestly, hated that little, soft tone in her voice. Like she was trying to be careful with everything she said.

He thought it was bullshit. She didn't need to be careful around them, God damn it.

The hotel they chose was called "Wealthy Days" and its logo sported a giant hundred dollar bill with a giant grin on its giant bill-face. They had an hour and a half before sunrise when they were all checked in and Dustin was handed the key card. Jenna was ushered in first, Deacon nudging her inside, muttering at her to start eating already before he took in the room itself.

Two twin beds and a couch that unfolded into a larger sized thin mattress. The bedding was a deep red color with a dark green swirl pattern, and the couch was rusty brown. The carpet was almost the same shade as the couch, and was frayed and worn thin in places. It wasn't by any means an attractive room, and it certainly didn't make anyone in it feel at all 'wealthy'.

Jenna sat down at the little round table smushed against the wall beside the cheap television stand and took her salad out of the bag, eating slowly while the vampires settled their own sleeping arrangements, Deacon for once agreeing to take the floor without argument. He only nodded and let out a dismissive snort before shoving his hands in his pockets and leaving the other three to the rest of the decisions before sitting down at the little table as well, silent as he rested an elbow on the table and placed his chin in his hand, watching the others.

When her salad was done, she put the empty tray back into the bag and pulled the sweet tea closer. Cole was sitting on the fold-out couch that would be his bed for the night, shared with Luca, and Dustin was leaning against the foot of one of the twins, turning the small television on and flipping channels, ignoring Luca when the doctor told him to stay on a certain one or to go back to a show he'd liked and Dustin had passed by. Every once in a while, each of them would shoot her a glance, and she would cough or take a deep gulp of her sweet tea in response, keeping her eyes on the table as she felt, rather than saw, their stares.

She was a mess, and she knew it. Her eyes still felt hot, and the after-tears burning was still there as well. And it frightened her to think about, but she'd have to tell them something. A reason for it. Otherwise...she couldn't see them letting her go off by herself when they reached Maryland. Who would, after watching an eighteen year old break down and not give a reason for it? Whatever story or distraction she came up with, she didn't want them seeing her as fragile enough for them to shoot the idea down.

Perhaps she would have to tell them? The truth? Not some story. She was...terrible at lying.

With a deep breath that made Deacon tilt his head a bit to look at her, she looked up from the table at Dustin. "I'm..." she hesitated when the red haired vampire hit a button on the remote and shut the television down in a split second, looking from the screen to her. Guilt settled in her gut for a moment at the motion, like he'd been waiting for her to say something the entire time. "I mean...sorry about the...the crying thing back there."

Dustin's brows furrowed and he frowned, but Cole spoke up first from his place on the couch. "You don't have to apologize," he began, and started to say something else, but Dustin hushed him and looked back at Jenna, telling Cole to let her talk and not to interrupt.

She swallowed, glancing at each vampire in turn, their stares feeling like tangible, heavy weights pressing down at her. "You said I could talk to you," she said slowly, and kept her eyes on Dustin as she spoke to keep from losing her nerve.

The man nodded. "Do you want to just talk to me, or...?"

She shook her head. "But I mean..." Deep breath. She was terrible at lying, and she knew it. Everybody knew it. If she tried, it would make things worse, and much more difficult later when she would try and get away from them and...

Jenna closed her eyes. A month wasn't a lot of time, if you thought about it. And a month was all the time she knew with them, but yet, really, when she took a second to mull it over, she felt like it had been much longer than just a single month. She felt like she could honestly and truly trust them. She did, in fact, trust them. Completely. A hunter would not let four vampires help her on her little adventures otherwise, and these four had not only joined her team, but had saved her life. Twice.

"I believe in all of you," she mumbled softly. "We've been together a while. But you know next to nothing about me."

Was it an excuse to tell them the reasons, an excuse to make them trust her, or perhaps even an excuse to simply talk about the weight pressing down on her heart? Wasn't talking supposed to be some sort of magical cure-all end-all? Not just a temporary band-aid? She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure about anything.

She was going to die soon. And these vampires...these men...her friends. Perhaps this would end up meaning so much more to everyone, other than her just giving them a filler-reason for her behavior.

In fact, thinking back to even considering giving them a quick little fib of an excuse almost made her cringe now.

"You don't have to," she heard Deacon almost whisper from close by. It surprised her, really, the amount of concern he let slip into his usual could-care-less tone. "If it hurts. It's okay."

"I haven't had a nightmare in a long time," she said after a moment of collecting herself, taking strength from Deacon's words instead of using them to mold some sort of excuse to back out of saying anything at all. "But...when I do...they're about my dad," she said.

From across the room, Cole lifted a hand and ran his fingers through his hair, letting out an audible breath of air and closing his eyes tightly. He was already guessing the story.

"He...I mean..." She glanced at Deacon for a moment. "We're partners. Friends. It'd be...silly," she mumbled, and looked down at the table. "For me to keep things from you."

Nobody said anything.

"...You've asked me before," she began again. "Why I do this? Why I'm out here on my own and...hunting?" It took her another few seconds, and the girl actually let out a soft laugh before lifting her hand and wiping at the corner of her eyes hastily with her sleeve. "I'm sorry, this is hard," she explained.

"Don't," Deacon murmured in response to her apology.

Silence.

She almost lost her nerve again. Thinking about the words she wanted to say was nearly enough to rob her of her nerve again completely. But she swallowed, and with the terrible thought of her approaching death as her motivation, she began to speak.

"My dad...it had been just me and him for a while." she said. "He wasn't a hunter. He wasn't even anything, y'know. Not normal. He was a fireman," she smiled a bit at that, pride flashing bright in her expression for a moment.

"He always used to say I get my stubborn streak from him. He was so...he was brave. He'd run into burning buildings before with no problem. He was burned a few times. That...I mean, that happens I guess. Close calls. He didn't care about that though. If there was somebody in the house and there was a wall of fire and a collapsing building between him and the person, he'd run in anyway."

Deacon's hand clenched a bit and disappeared under the table slowly. His fingertips barely touched the girl's knee, and she wiped at her eyes again quickly in response.

"I still don't know why it chose our house. Or him. It just..." Deep breath. "A werewolf. Came in through his window and attacked him. I don't remember much of what happened. I heard him scream and ran in to see why. Mostly, I just remember...red." Her voice wavered, and her eyes drifted down to the floor, distant.

Cole dropped his hand and looked at her again, cracking his eyes open slowly. Dustin's hand curled around the remote tightly enough to make the plastic creak. Luca was absolutely still from his spot beside Cole, eyes wide like a small deer caught in a pair of ground-rumbling headlights. And Deacon's hand covered the girl's knee completely, a few fingers slipping beneath the holes in her worn jeans, touching skin.

Again, she was quiet for a long time.

Perhaps she didn't notice the fresh tears that welled up an threatened to spill over, but Deacon moved closer when he noticed for himself. He left his chair and knelt slowly beside her, replacing his hand lightly over her knee.

"Jenna." His voice was quiet. Dustin began to say something, but Deacon gave him a small glance, and the leader grew quiet, watching. "Jenna, hush," he said softly. His other hand lifted and touched at a long strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail in front of her ear. "It's alright. You don't...you don't have to say anything else. It's okay-"

She reached up and pulled his hand away from her face, though instead of pushing him away, she brought his hand down to her lap and held onto lightly it with her other hand as well. Her brown eyes shifted over to his hand as his fingers closed around her own gently, the rest of him motionless.

"He..." The girl took in a breath, and Deacon's other hand brushed over the fabric of her jeans on her knee slowly.

To her, this was perhaps the most important piece of herself she could give to somebody. Though truthfully, the four watching her now were nothing if not a group of people she felt she could lean all of her trust on anyway. Her insides clenched and twisted at the thought of lying to them later, but his voice brought her back down to the present as he spoke up, grounding her for a moment.

"Really," Deacon tried again. "You don't-"

"He didn't die," she breathed, and her eyes lifted to meet the vampire closest to her's in time to watch them widen a bit.

"He almost died." She swallowed a bit thickly, and the words came easier. "The werewolf was trying to kill him, but these two men appeared." She looked down again. "Out of nowhere. I don't know how they got into the house. I don't...I don't care how. But they fought the wolf off of dad and...shot it dead. Silver bullets. Always, silver bullets, through the heart. The werewolf never bit dad when it attacked him, so he didn't...he didn't turn. And the two men...hunters. They were hunters. They stayed with me while the ambulance came, and helped patch up my dad so he didn't just...bleed out completely."

Jenna lifted the hand that Deacon wasn't holding and touched her head, sleeve covering her fingers as it stretched over her hand. "...They found me again after my dad was put in the hospital. To check on me. Make sure I was...doing okay, I guess."

She looked up at Dustin then. "So I asked...I asked them what attacked him. I had to convince them that I would go insane otherwise, if I didn't know the truth. They didn't want to tell me." She let out a light, broken laugh. "They told me it was a werewolf. Told me that they were 'hunters', and that they killed things like them for a living, saving people like me and my..." She paused. "...S...so I...I just..I left. I wanted to help. I couldn't...just not do anything. Not when I could save somebody like my dad, or me, or anyone else."

"Your father let you go?" Luca asked, voice utterly soft, from across the room.

Jenna looked at him, eyes shining again. "No," she said. "No, he doesn't...even know. He hasn't woken up since the werewolf attacked him."

And there it was.

There it all was.

Broken family, broken heart, and all of it were going to be claimed soon enough by a creature similar enough to the one who harmed her father and shifted everything into the way it was to make her skin crawl and tears burn her eyes all over again.

"So I'm sorry," she said, and her voice cracked.

She didn't want to die.

"About earlier."

She felt like she had so much more to try and give.

"And for not telling you what was wrong."

She was afraid.

"I think I should have ex...explained earlier. Should have told you everything. I've thought about it before...I'm just..."

But her life was ending. She was going to walk into Death's arms to keep her friends and her father safe.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

And as long as the outcome was just that...she was truly okay with it.

"I just..." But she paused, leaning back in her chair a bit as Dustin pushed away from the foot of his bed and moved closer. With careful hands, he eased her up from her chair after Deacon moved aside, and she blinked into his chest when he simply pulled her into a strong, warm embrace.

"Don't apologize," he said. His voice was still as strong as it ever was, and reminded her of an iron beam, strength and support simply vibrating off of him. "Jenna, don't you apologize to us for anything. It's alright." He hesitated, lifting a hand and touching the hair at the back of her head, settling over the knot of her ponytail. Dustin ducked down then, voice dropping into a tone much quieter, as if he were trying to reserve the words just for her, despite the others being able to catch every sound anyway.

"I know how hard that must have been. None of us will take it for granted. We...I'm sure all of us understand...how much that all means to you. How much it means you felt you could... Of course we know how important it is, and we..." he took a moment, searching for the right word. With a grunt, he eased some space between them, looking down at her. Those tears had spilled over her eyes and were splotched against her cheeks where her face had brushed against his shirt. "...Your trust means more than you know."

Trust.

Trust trust _trust_.

Trust was important.

With a hitching breath she only tilted forward in his arms, and he let her lean into his chest completely, hiding her face as her second round of tears fought with the rest of her body, shivering weakly in the vampire's strong hold. Luca came closer and rested a hand over the top of her head at one point, and Cole touched her shoulder for a moment.

Deacon eased back, and slipped outside completely, leaving them in the quiet, dim hotel room.

.

The night sky was nearly pitch black, though he could spot a few bright points in the sky; little stars shining through the dim wash of light the town gave off around him.

For a moment, he closed his eyes.

He listened to the thrumming beat of blood and heartbeats of the people of the town, concentrating on it until the sound filled his ears, making him grit his teeth as he rooted himself to the small patch of pavement outside of the hotel, hidden in shadow across the parking lot on the edge of a small outcropping of trees. Life was a funny, almost ridiculously fragile thing, wasn't it? Like an eggshell. One crack at the very strong possibility of destroying the whole structure.

Tilting his head a bit, he opened his eyes once more, the beat of all the lives around him mixing with the dim, twinkling stars in his sights as his hands clenched at his sides.

A month wasn't a very long time. At all. He'd been alive fifty years, thirty years since turning, and he knew very well the passage of time and its frivolous habit of either going by far too quickly or far too slowly. Pieces would fit together at odd angles, plucking certain strings harder than they usually would, or barely touching the surface at all to his emotions, heart, and whatever might have been left of his soul.

Thinking of those tears on the kid's face...imagining her struggling with a life on her own, fatherless, and not just trying to put herself through high school or college, but actually fighting? As in fighting, fighting? Things that could actually hurt, maim, and kill her?

His jaw set, hearing the word 'red' just as she'd said it as she told them the answer to a questions all of them had asked at one point. A question he wished he'd never brought up. One that he wished none of them had asked her.

When it came to himself? Pain? Agony? He'd taken it in stride through his own life, physical and otherwise. Really, none of that really bothered him. After a while, it became more of an irritating buzz than anything else. Even before he turned, he was a 'reckless moron', as Luca had called him on more than one occasion.

He and his friends, the three that were all but his brothers, shared the pure hatred of people who caused that suffering, however. Perhaps it was very fitting; the four of them possessed the trait of those damned irritating 'super heroes' on television, with their inside-out underwear and all of that stupid...stupid shit. The drive to crush those who did nothing but hurt people were in all of them, really. Though as vampires, 'vegan' or not, doing anything about that drive was difficult. They had already guessed that vampires, for the most part, were not the 'friendly neighborhood' types. But what could they do? Well, they hid. In that little shack with the little television with fifteen channels and lumpy couch. They didn't. Do. Anything.

And then in came Jenna, with her ridiculously brave, strong little spirit. Showing them that, yes, they could actually do something about things like them that were in the wrong. There already were people out there doing the job, just like what they had all at one point thought of trying.

"Damn it all, Jenna..." Deacon dropped his head and lifted his hands, digging his fingers into his hair roughly for a moment, closing his eyes.

..._And then in came the kid_, with her _stupid_, _brave_, _strong_ little spirit, who showed them how terrible things really were out there.

The idea. The thought. The images. The knowledge that it was all the truth.

It made him want to just...

It made him want to ignore everybody else on the planet, everybody else in pain and suffering and terrible trouble, just to make sure that the kid, that Jenna, was kept out of that circle. Fuck this 'hero' shit. Fuck it to hell. There was too much pain. Too much danger. Too much bloodshed and...

For a long, long, long time, he merely stood there, mind clicking and whirring, replaying her story, replaying the first night they'd met her. The nights at the hospital. The truck drives across the country. The drive-thrus and arguing over radio stations. The laughing, teasing, joking, light and distant voice of the damned girl that was wiggling her way into his damned head so deeply it was truly confusing him. How many years had he and his brothers tried to set their minds straight on the goddamned 'fighting evil' shit? And how quick was this kid switching his brain from 'eager-as-hell' soldier to someone who was all but ready to snatch her up and drag her off somewhere safe and free of shapeshifters and werewolves and-

"God _damn_ it all," he bit out.

And she was on her own. Had been on her own for so damn long...

"You should come back inside," a voice spoke up beside him, Deacon's mind so far elsewhere that the man actually jumped, tearing his hands from his hair and looking in the voice's direction, blinking with wide, hazel eyes.

Luca stared back at him, his own eyes tired and heavy looking.

"...Not feeling it," Deacon responded, voice a bit rougher than he'd expected as he spoke to the curly-haired man, and he growled in response to hearing it, looking back up at the stars.

"Sunrise is coming in just a few minutes," Luca said softly, and Deacon looked at him again.

"Don't care," he grumbled back.

"...Come on. Deacon." The doctor touched his arm and the other vampire just sighed. "You've been out here nearly an hour. Don't make me worry about you." When Deacon opened his mouth to say something else, Luca shook his head and cut him off. "Please don't make her, of all people, worry about you either."

"I...sorry. Is she...? Jenna? Is she alright?"

"She's asleep," Luca mumbled. "And yes. Yes, she's okay. Dustin stayed with her, and she...ha," he smiled a bit and looked away, though there was no humor in the expression. "She fell asleep. Standing up while he held onto her."

"Cryin' that much wears you out," Deacon said, and Luca only shrugged. "...Can't believe she told us all that, honestly," he blurted, and Luca let out another soft, humorless laugh.

"She trusts us."

"Guess...damn, I guess so."

"Don't stay out here too much longer, alright?" Luca looked away. "I'd say you'd catch a cold, what with the sunlight, but that's bullshit, so I'll tell you that I don't feel like dealing with your tired ass in the morning," he sighed, and smirked when Deacon shoved at him.

"Shut the hell up," the black haired vampire bit out, but his eyes flashed anyway, albeit weakly. "I'll be in in a minute."

When Luca left him, he stood outside for a few seconds more, taking in a few slow, even breaths to calm his hazy mind, and only at that point did he realize that yes, he was in fact tired as well on top of everything else. He was utterly quiet, slipping back into the hotel room. The shades were already pulled tight, a heavy blanket tossed over them as well for good measure, effectively blacking the room out. Luca nodded at him once as he settled back on the couch beside Cole, crossing one arm beneath his head before closing his eyes to rest.

Deacon was quick and quiet with his own little nightly routine, brushing his teeth and washing up. His eyes fell on the kid when he stepped out of the bathroom to find his spot on the floor to sleep.

She was curled up, as she usually slept, like a ball under her covers, half of her face hidden under blankets so only the top of her head appeared over the comforter and on the pillow. Her eyes were still red, and he felt his hands clench into fists again at his sides for a moment.

But he shook his head, and dropped unceremoniously onto a small pile of blankets and a pillow that had been set up for him between the two beds, shifting only for a minute before he deemed himself comfortable enough to try and fall asleep.

"You okay?"

Her voice was the second that night to startle him, and he blinked at her in the dark, meeting her open, tired eyes. Her breathing had been so perfectly even he had assumed she was asleep.

"I'm fine," he said a bit absently, watching her. "I'm...hn," he shook his head. "What about you?"

"..." She shifted a bit in her bed, and one of her arms snaked its way slowly out of the cocoon of blankets surrounding her. Carefully, she reached down over the edge of the bed, and touched her fingertips to his wrist lightly. He didn't think much of it when he turned his palm up and lifted his hand, catching her fingers in his own.

"Jenna?" he said, barely above a whisper.

The girl's eyes found his again, looking away from their hands.

"I'm fine," she said. "I'm okay."

"...Good," he mumbled, and his thumb brushed against the back of her hand lightly. "Get...get some rest, kid. You look tired."

"Only a little," she said, and he could hear the tiny smile in her voice from where it was hidden under those blankets.

He managed a smirk of his own and gave her hand a gentle shake. "Night, kid."

"Good night," she said, and his smile vanished as soon as her eyes closed again. "Deacon."

When she fell asleep, and even after he himself had fallen under, he never let go of her hand.

.

..

...

I'm sorry that this chapter is a bit shorter than the others. And also perhaps a bit more boring than some xD I mean, I for one adore this sort of character development, terrible and sad as it may be. This one was...I just needed it to end there, haha. But don't worry. The next chapter? Let me just tell you that 'shit gets real', if I may.

Also, is that fluff I see there at the end? ...Okay not really but pf whatever.

Oh! And the day I finished this chapter (like I said, been working on it on and off), I got another piece of adorable art from the same artist as the first :3 Here, take a look!

**http:/ /tinyurl. com/6buvoae**

I'm getting a more realistic commission from her next. Expect a link to it within the next couple of updates.**  
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